


A Cut Above the Rest

by imaginingpotter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, F/M, Falling In Love, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Multi, Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Roughly follows canon from both the books and the films, we stan supportive female friendships
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-18
Updated: 2021-03-26
Packaged: 2021-03-27 08:40:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30120111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imaginingpotter/pseuds/imaginingpotter
Summary: Their third year at Hogwarts brings many surprises to the Golden Trio, including a new student in their year.For the past few years, Y/N has been homeschooled by her aunt, ex-Auror Dorothea Locke. However, it was decided that in September of 1993, Y/N would be sent to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to complete her education.She meets some people who become quick friends that help her adjust from homeschooling to life at Hogwarts. Others are not so welcoming, and it doesn’t take long for Y/N to realise that the times ahead of her will bring all sorts of challenges — especially with the news that a mass murderer has escaped from Azkaban prison before the school year has even started.
Relationships: Cedric Diggory & Reader, Cedric Diggory & You, Cedric Diggory/Reader, Cedric Diggory/You, Harry Potter & Reader, Harry Potter & You, Harry Potter/Reader, Harry Potter/You, Reader/Other(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> WORD COUNT: approx. 1k
> 
> NOTES: Y/N = your name; M/N = mother’s name.
> 
> So, I’m kind of obsessed with the design of Grindelwald’s wand and that’s pretty much what the description of Y/N’s wand is based on, but feel free to ignore this and picture it however you want: https://noblecollection.co.uk/product/gellert-grindelwald-character-wand/

**0\. PROLOGUE**

**━━━━━━━━━ ⌁ ϟ ⌁ ━━━━━━━━━**

Dorothea Locke had raised her niece in a quaint two-storey house tucked away in a Muggle village. Nobody much questioned the pair, as anything that would be considered unusual was kept well-hidden and secret in the confines of their home.

Y/N’s first brush with magic came as no surprise to her aunt. As a toddler too young to grasp the concept of magic, little Y/N had giggled and shrieked with joy after falling from her highchair only to bounce off of the kitchen floor as if it were made of cushions. When she was finally old enough to understand her gift, and old enough to keep it a secret, Dorothea told Y/N that she was a witch. Just like Dorothea herself, as well as her own sister — M/N, Y/N’s mother.

On her eleventh birthday, a letter came for Y/N. Admittance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Y/N would be in the minority of students who opted not to attend in favour of other arrangements. It was Dorothea’s desire to teach Y/N how to wield her magic herself. Dorothea was certainly qualified enough, having been a stellar student in her own youth and later, an Auror — a so-called Dark wizard catcher, working for the Ministry of Magic to fight against the forces of the Dark Arts.

Y/N had still travelled to Diagon Alley like many of the children her age beginning their magical education. Armed with a school syllabus for the year sent to Dorothea by owl from the Ministry, Y/N and her aunt purchased a great number of books from Flourish and Blotts; schoolbooks that had been on the Hogwarts supplies list, as well as additional books that Dorothea thought would be useful and give Y/N an even broader understanding of the subjects.

A cauldron, a few extra bits of potion-making equipment, and some ingredients for basic first year level potions were bought. Anything else needed down the track was either already at home or could be bought when it was needed.

But the most exciting purchase for Y/N had been her very own wand. It was made of blackthorn wood, eleven inches long, with unicorn hair as its core. It did not resemble the smooth, straight design of her aunt’s cedar wand. Y/N’s wand was rough, almost twisted in shape, with a few subtle thorns along its length and a small knot that made it fit like a puzzle piece in her hand. It was a happy coincidence that her wand, in its uniquely raw and unaltered design, would likely blend in with any other stick or branch if a Muggle so happened to see it.

Desperate as Y/N was to start casting spells the second the wand was in her grasp, a homeschooled witch would have to follow rules to avoid breaching the International Statute of Secrecy. As long as she was underage, no magic was allowed outside the home. Her lessons with her aunt would all take place inside their house in the attic, and precautionary measures were taken. Dorothea cast spells that would soundproof the attic to avoid discovery by any disgruntled neighbours with noise complaints. Potions equipment and spellbooks were kept securely locked away on the rare occasion that they entertained guests, and a curtain of normalcy was pulled over their life to disguise the magic of it.

Aside from her atypical form of education, Y/N led the otherwise simple life of a preteen. She delivered the morning paper to her neighbours on her bicycle most days. In the early hours of the morning, the cobbled streets of the old village were quiet and peaceful. A few neighbours would regularly spot Y/N riding by in the mornings, and would wave a good morning greeting to her as she tossed a rolled-up newspaper over their fences.

Y/N had a few frequent haunts around the village, including the duck pond only a few minutes walk from her home. It was a nice spot to sit, and the only other people who frequented the area as much as she did were young children with their parents and elderly couples. She liked to sit on a bench and people-watch there. To her, it was like looking at two opposite stages of life; the young children running at the ducks with fascination and a keen sense of discovery, and the elderly sitting peacefully with years of wisdom and life experience under their belt. That, and the ducks were pretty adorable.

Either by circumstance or by choice, Y/N had few friends her age. Her pool of acquaintances mainly consisted of those she would see often on her paper route or elsewhere, such as Mr. Farley — the shopkeeper at the local convenience store. Or Mrs. Doyle, who ran the bookstore.

Two friends she did have were Ruby and Olive. They were identical twin sisters who lived across the street, only a year younger than Y/N. It was difficult keeping her magic discreet when the two troublemakers were consistently sneaking out of their own home to run over to Y/N’s house, where they masterfully scaled the side of the house to reach the window on the second floor that opened to Y/N’s bedroom. She had learnt early on in her friendship with the twins to keep the window locked and curtains drawn if she ever performed magic inside her bedroom rather than the designated learning space in the attic. If they wanted to come inside, they had to knock. At Ruby’s insistence, a secret knock had been developed — even though Olive reasoned that this was entirely unnecessary as nobody else in the village but them would be knocking on Y/N Locke’s window.

Y/N enjoyed her life in the small Muggle village with her aunt, though sometimes she wondered what it was like for other witches and wizards her age. She wanted to meet more people like her, people that she wouldn’t have to hide such a big part of her life and identity from. She wanted to see something other than the only corner of the world she’d ever known — somewhere new, different, and exciting. She wanted, in simplest terms, an adventure.


	2. i. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY: A visitor in the night means great change is on the horizon for Y/N Locke; and a simple train ride becomes far more than just that.
> 
> WORD COUNT: approx. 3.6k

** i. HOME **

**━━━━━━━━━ ⌁ ϟ ⌁ ━━━━━━━━━**

_ 4th of August, 1993. _

  
  


Late on a Wednesday evening, not long after Dorothea had finished washing the dishes from dinner, a knock came at the door.

Having not expected any visitors that day, Dorothea approached the door with a hand grasped around the wand hidden under her cardigan. Even the years spent retired from her career as an Auror could not prune her cautious habits, and if what the news was saying was true, such caution was more important now than it had been in years.

When she opened the door, a man she had not seen in person for a long time stood on her front steps. He was tall with long hair and an impressively long silver beard, and clear blue eyes sat twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles. In his plum-purple robes, he looked exactly as any child would imagine a great wizard would look. And it just so happened that he indeed _was_ a great wizard.

“Dumbledore,” Dorothea gasped, releasing the hold on her wand at once.

Albus Dumbledore slowly nodded his head in polite greeting.

“I must apologise for dropping in like this at such an hour, Ms. Locke, but I’m afraid I have matters to discuss with you that are far too important to be sent by owl,” he said.

Dorothea opened the door further and poked her head outside into the cool evening air, looking from left to right. Though it was quite late, it was worth a quick check. None of her neighbours were out, and with a quick glance at the house directly across the street, she saw that those nosy little friends of her niece’s weren’t peering out the window either. She also noticed, as she stepped aside to let Dumbledore cross the threshold into her home, that several of the closest street lanterns had gone dark.

Dumbledore glanced around the room. Dorothea’s home was decorated rather eclectically, looking as if put together by two different individuals with their own distinct tastes. Yet somehow, it maintained a cosy atmosphere. The living room had retro elements, with brightly coloured furniture and psychedelic art prints lining the walls. A tall shelf that covered almost the entire far wall was lined with books, magazines, and a vast collection of vinyl records. A turntable sat nearby atop a three-legged table, and quiet music softly flowed out of it as a record rotated under a needle. Odd bits of decor and trinkets were dotted around the living room: ceramic frogs and turtles, a ship in a bottle, and a vase shaped like a zebra’s head with yellow and purple flowers poking out of it.

“Y/N’s already gone to bed. Tea?” Dorothea asked, nervously fiddling with her fingers.

She approached the already-boiled pot and wordlessly poured a second cup of tea for her guest. Dumbledore sat at the table, admiring a nearby lampshade with parrots painted on it.

Dorothea sat in front of Dumbledore, passing him his tea whilst taking a sip of her own.

“Thank you,” Dumbledore said, taking a sip.

He gently placed the cup back on the saucer and faced Dorothea seriously.

“I’m sure you have an inkling as to why I’m visiting you tonight,” he said.

Dorothea nodded. “I thought I might get a visit or a letter at some point, but I hadn’t expected you to come in person.”

“Some things are more easily discussed in person,” Dumbledore said.

Dorothea took another long sip of her tea.

“You’re asking again if I’ll send her to Hogwarts, then?” Dorothea said.

“Yes. You must believe me when I say that I have all the confidence in your abilities as a caregiver and as an educator for Y/N, but I also believe that the best place for her to be is at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore explained.

“So it’s true, then? The news reports,” Dorothea said shakily.

Dumbledore nodded, a solemn look passing his features.

“I am afraid they are,” he said.

Dorothea, though having already known the news was true, felt her heart drop at further confirmation.

Dumbledore shifted, regarding her even more seriously than before:

“You know as well as I that Sirius Black’s escape from Azkaban is not to be taken lightly. Events like these rarely occur independently.”

Dumbledore’s words resonated uncomfortably with Dorothea. What he implied but didn’t say hit just as strongly. The escape of a mass murderer thirteen years after his incarceration was worrying enough on its own; but from bits and pieces of information that she had received through the grapevine, it was no coincidence. The few ex-colleagues still working for the Ministry that she kept in touch with had spoken of dangerous events taking place over the past few years. And all of those stories reeked of a dark wizard that Dorothea had never truly believed was as dead as they said he was.

Too many incidents with an air of suspicion were occurring for it to go unnoticed by anyone with enough knowledge. Dorothea had been immersed in the Muggle world for a long time, but the information that she received here and there was enough for her to fit the pieces together.

The Boy Who Lived started attending Hogwarts. A professor died under unknown circumstances. The Philosopher’s Stone was destroyed shortly thereafter. The year after that, Muggle-born students were being attacked and petrified, and once again, Harry Potter was involved in it somehow. And just recently, a loyal follower of the age’s most feared dark wizard had escaped from the supposedly inescapable Azkaban prison. The unspoken threat looming ahead was just too reminiscent of how it was all those years ago before the war. A storm cloud was beginning to take form.

Dorothea looked back up at Dumbledore, thinking over his proposal. If there was one person she trusted, it was Albus Dumbledore. If one criminal could escape from Azkaban, then it wasn’t so far fetched to think that even more would escape in the future. As an ex-Auror who had a part in the capture of some of those criminals, Y/N would likely be safer at Hogwarts during the upcoming years. Out of reach.

If Dumbledore truly believed that it was best for Y/N to start learning and living at Hogwarts, Dorothea would be willing to listen.

**━━━━━━━━━ ⌁ ϟ ⌁ ━━━━━━━━━**

_ 1st of September, 1993. _

  
  


“Remember to write to me whenever you can, okay? And I’m sure Ruby and Olive would be happy for me to pass on any letters,” Dorothea said quickly as she rushed with her niece through the crowds at King’s Cross station.

“I think they’re even more upset about me going to ‘boarding school’ than you are,” Y/N huffed, struggling slightly to push the trolley along fast enough.

Ruby and Olive had been more than a little upset to hear that Y/N was going to start attending school somewhere far away. They had jokingly-but-not-so-jokingly suggested that Y/N bring them along as luggage.

“Alright, here’s your ticket, and the entrance to the platform is there,” Dorothea pointed at the wall separating platforms nine and ten.

“Uh...Dottie? That’s a brick wall,” Y/N said.

Dorothea smiled patiently, “Yes, but it’s a magical barrier, poppet.”

“Oh! Right, of course it is.”

Y/N knew magic. But the magical _world_ , she was less familiar with.

“I’ll go through with you. I will admit, I’ve missed this quite a bit. We just have to run straight at the wall, alright?” Dorothea explained, placing one hand on Y/N’s back and another on the handle of the trolley.

Y/N breathed in deep through her nose and nodded.

“ _Alright, let’s just walk through a solid brick wall, no big deal..._ ” she whispered to herself.

Dorothea counted down from three, and Y/N began running forward with her aunt. They got closer and closer to the wall, and Y/N squeezed her eyes shut right at the moment that she would naturally expect a harsh impact.

Dorothea stopped running and Y/N slowed down. Eyes still shut, the first thing she heard was a train whistle, loud and sharp enough to cut through the chatter and bustle of the platform.

She opened her eyes and right in her line of vision was a steam train, glistening a brilliant scarlet red. Steam billowed out of the train’s chimney.

Dorothea looked down to see Y/N staring at the train in complete wonder.

“That’s the Hogwarts Express, kiddo,” she said.

Y/N exhaled and turned back to look at her aunt, suddenly sad.

“Oh no, don’t give me that look. If you start with the puppy eyes, I’ll end up taking you straight back home,” Dorothea said.

Y/N’s puppy eyes were famously persuasive, even when she wasn’t trying. For thirteen years, Y/N had been getting her way with them.

Y/N, not caring about the other teenagers in their vicinity, rushed forward and wrapped her arms around her aunt.

“I’m going to miss you,” she said, voice muffled by Dorothea’s wool coat.

“I’m going to miss you too. More than you can imagine,” Dorothea said, resting her cheek on Y/N’s head.

“I don’t even know anybody, what do I do when I get there?” Y/N said frantically.

She had been over the moon to learn that she would finally discover what Hogwarts was like. The adventure she craved was just within reach — all she had to do was lean into it. But seeing the train and the other students, a sea of unrecognisable strangers, made her truly realise for the first time that she was saying goodbye to the woman who raised her for the first time in her life. The anxiety that she had not previously felt kicked in all at once.

“Hey, you’ll be fine,” Dorothea said, pulling back from the hug to look Y/N in the eyes. “You’re absolutely adorable, people will love you. And you’re such a tough cookie that anyone who tries to bite you will break their teeth.”

Y/N grinned lopsidedly, “Kind of a weird way to say it, but thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Dorothea ruffled Y/N’s hair.

The train whistled loudly again and students began to board the train more quickly.

Dorothea smiled sadly and brushed down Y/N’s messed-up hair with her fingers.

“It’s time to go now,” she said.

Y/N hugged her aunt tightly once more.

“Look after yourself,” Y/N said.

Dorothea laughed sadly, “I should be telling you that, you know.”

With their final parting goodbyes, Y/N boarded the Hogwarts Express.

**━━━━━━━━━ ⌁ ϟ ⌁ ━━━━━━━━━**

As she walked along the train in search of an empty seat, Y/N couldn’t avoid the curious looks she encountered from other students every now and again.

This was completely new territory for her. Never before had she been around so many kids her age. She had been homeschooled most of her life, and the only real school she’d been to was a very small Muggle primary school.

_ Am I supposed to just walk into any compartment? Does it have to be empty? Is it weird if I sit with someone I don’t know? Maybe I should just ask? But what if they tell me to go away? _

Y/N had never experienced such an influx of self-doubt, but according to her aunt, puberty and high school would do that to a person.

When she came across a compartment with only one person in it, she hesitantly knocked on the glass.

The figure did not budge. He had a cloak pulled up over his face, so Y/N assumed he was asleep. His robes looked quite thin and worn out — they certainly didn’t look warm enough. Figuring that she couldn’t keep wandering the train hopelessly forever, she quietly slid open the compartment door and shuffled inside. Trying not to wake the man, she lowered onto the seat across from him, holding her messenger bag to her chest, and she realised that he must’ve been one of the teachers. This was confirmed when she looked above at a suitcase with the name _Professor R. J. Lupin_ on it.

After a few minutes of awkwardly trying to settle in and not kick the teacher accidentally, Y/N leaned her forehead on the cool glass window and watched the scenery go by. She realised that she, like the professor across from her, was awfully tired. She supposed this was what she got for staying up all night.

The rocking of the train was quite soothing and in her tired state, it did not take very long for Y/N to doze off.

  
  


**━━━━━━━━━ ⌁ ϟ ⌁ ━━━━━━━━━**

_ Cold. _

That’s the first word that popped into Y/N’s head as she started to slowly rouse from her nap. It was much, much colder now than it was before. She didn’t understand it and in her half-asleep state, she did not react much. But as she started growing more and more alert, the feeling was unmistakable. Sorrow. Dread.

  
  


Danger.

She opened her eyes slowly. Y/N’s vision was blurry for a moment, but the first thing she saw was a boy with messy dark hair and round glasses. He had a petrified look on his face — he was staring at something.

Y/N heard the hiss of a cat. She finally lifted her head off of the wall and turned to the door of the compartment. What she saw made her blood turn to ice. For a moment, she wondered if she was still asleep. Surely she was in the midst of a nightmare.

Y/N vaguely recognised the creature before her, she’d seen depictions of it in books. It was nothing at all pleasant, nothing that she should have been facing on her way to school.

Cloaked entirely in black, face covered, bringing coldness into the air and into the hearts of those unlucky enough to be in its vicinity. It was a dementor.

All of a sudden, at the same moment that the poor lad with glasses fell from his seat, twitching in some sort of fit, the professor jumped up and stood before the creature.

“None of us are hiding Sirius Black under our cloaks. Go,” the professor said firmly.

The dementor did not move. Professor Lupin pulled out a wand and pointed it at the dementor, muttering something under his breath and then —

A bright silvery light filled the dark compartment, and the large cloaked figure instantly cowered back from the light, vanishing down the train and out of sight.

“Wait here,” the professor said, disappearing from sight a moment later.

Breathing much easier now that the dementor had left, Y/N looked properly at the other people in the compartment. Attempting to slap the boy on the floor awake was a worried girl with bushy brown hair. There were two more boys, one with brown hair and another with red hair, holding a rat; and there was another girl, this one with red hair, too.

Everyone was still in a state of shock at what had transpired moments before. The other students had not acknowledged Y/N directly yet, too concerned with the state of their unconscious friend.

Eventually, the lights of the train flickered back on and the professor returned. It was at this time that the boy with the glasses was finally roused by the light slapping to his cheeks.

“What?” The boy asked in confusion.

“Are you okay?” The redhead boy asked him.

“Yeah...What happened? Where’s that thing? Who screamed?”

“Nobody screamed,” the redhead said nervously.

His friends pulled the boy into a sitting position. He turned and noticed Y/N, now awake and blinking dazedly at everyone. Y/N stared back at him, and the others all turned to face her now. This was not how Y/N had envisioned her start at Hogwarts.

A loud snapping noise made them jump. Professor Lupin, standing by the doorway, was breaking up a large slab of chocolate. He started to hand out bits of it to all of the students.

As Y/N accepted the bit of chocolate from the professor, she asked in a shaky voice: “That thing...it was a dementor, wasn’t it?”

The professor almost smiled, impressed.

“Yes, indeed. One of the dementors of Azkaban,” he said, crumpling up the chocolate wrapper.

“Eat the chocolate, it will help,” he said to everyone, turning to leave. “I need to speak to the driver.”

Lupin disappeared into the corridor. The other students began explaining what had happened to the boy who had passed out. Y/N sat, listening in silence as she slowly nibbled her piece of chocolate. It made her feel a great deal less cold than she had been. Waking up from a nap to something like that was quite jarring. Seeing it at all was not something she had been prepared for.

“What’s your name? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” the bushy-haired girl asked Y/N, just as Professor Lupin returned to the compartment.

“Oh, I’m actually a new student. I’ll be starting in third year. My name’s Y/N Locke,” she said.

“Hermione Granger,” the girl introduced herself, shaking Y/N’s hand.

Hermione introduced the others in the compartment. Ron Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Harry Potter.

Harry Potter.

Yes, Y/N had heard that name before. What witch or wizard hadn’t? Even Y/N, who was raised predominantly in a Muggle world, had been told about the Boy Who Lived by her aunt.

Harry gave a polite nod to Y/N and lifted a still-jittery hand. Y/N shook it gently — it was cold and clammy. He had certainly suffered the brunt of the dementor’s presence.

Lupin, who had been silently watching from the door to the compartment, interrupted with a small smile: “I haven’t poisoned that chocolate, you know...”

Harry finally took a bite of his chocolate.

“We’ll be at Hogwarts in ten minutes,” said Professor Lupin. “Are you alright, Harry?”

“I’m fine,” Harry said quietly.

Y/N slipped away at one point to change into the plain black Hogwarts robes she had been fitted in at a shop in Diagon Alley, while the others changed into black robes with red accents. Nobody mentioned the dementor for the rest of the journey. Also not uttered was the name Sirius Black. Y/N wasn’t incredibly up-to-date with all the wizarding news yet, but the man’s breakout was a very big deal, even in the Muggle world. The thought of an escaped mass murderer being on the loose made Y/N shiver.

Hermione, on a lighter note, seemed quite interested in learning more about Y/N’s background.

“Are you a transfer from another school?” Hermione asked.

“No, I’ve been homeschooled by my aunt,” Y/N answered.

“Magical homeschooling — that’s fascinating! How did you organise your curriculum?” She asked.

“Well, the Ministry just sent us a syllabus every year, but then my aunt and I could set it out however we wanted so long as we got down all the essentials by the end of each term,” Y/N said.

Ron looked rather bored by the discussion of schooling, but Hermione seemed genuinely interested.

“That must give you a lot of freedom to explore extra areas of — wait a second, how do you do spells? Wouldn’t that be breaking the law banning underage magic?” Hermione asked.

“No, we registered with the Ministry so they know I’m homeschooled. As long as I only did magic inside my home, I was okay. Besides, the Ministry can’t track the exact wand that has cast magic, they can only track _where_ it’s cast. So any spell-casting traced to my home could just as easily have been my aunt,” Y/N explained.

“Oh! Yes, yes, of course,” Hermione said, smacking a hand to her forehead like she’d forgotten something obvious.

“Are they going to sort you with the first years?” Ron said, leaning over to look at Y/N from the other side of Hermione.

Y/N shrugged, “I don’t really know, actually. I guess so?”

The train stopped a short time later at Hogsmeade station; Y/N followed the others onto the platform, deciding that Hermione seemed like a good person to stick to for the time being. Rain was pouring down in icy sheets, leaving them all shivering like leaves in the wind.

The little first years followed a large bearded man in the direction of a lake, while the older students headed in a different direction.

Y/N’s eyes widened as they approached rows of stagecoaches. Pulling each of the coaches were large, skeletal horses. Their skin was pulled taut against their bones, and large wings sat close to their torsos. One of them flapped their wings, pawing a hoofed foot at the soggy ground.

In the rainy cover of night, the creatures looked hauntingly beautiful.

“Come on, Y/N, it’s pouring! What are you looking at?” Hermione gestured for Y/N to join them in the coach.

Y/N looked from the horse to the other students, back to the horse again, and then finally, she rushed into the coach.

The carriage rocked gently back and forth as it neared the wrought iron gates flanked with stone columns, on top of which sat stone winged boars. As Y/N looked out of the window, she saw two more of the dark, hooded Dementors standing on either side of the gate like guards. An unpleasant wave of coldness rushed through her at the sight and she looked away from the window to see Harry didn’t look much better.

  
  


**━━━━━━━━━ ⌁ ϟ ⌁ ━━━━━━━━━**

Y/N would indeed be sorted alongside the first year students.

She felt a bit silly standing there amongst the smaller and younger students, with many of the the older students looking at her in confusion. Apparently, the current student body had never had a new student start attending beyond first year.

The Sorting Hat had performed a song for the Great Hall, and Y/N supposed that would be the first of many quirky things to happen at Hogwarts.

First years were being sorted in alphabetical order by surname. The sorting ceremony was not as complicated as Y/N had imagined it would be. Most of the students were sorted fairly quickly, and one of the four tables would erupt in enthusiastic applause to beckon over their new blood.

“Locke, Y/N!” A woman named Professor McGonagall called.

Y/N exhaled in an attempt at self-soothing and brushed past a few of the first years, walking towards the stool. On her way up, she glanced at the high table. In the centre was who she assumed was the headmaster — Professor Dumbledore. He flashed her a very subtle smile. There was an angry-looking professor with greasy black hair and dark robes; the large man with the beard from earlier on the platform; and Professor Lupin, the only other professor she knew by name at that point.

After sitting upon the stool, Professor McGonagall lowered the old brown hat onto Y/N’s head.

Y/N nearly jolted when she heard it suddenly speaking inside her head.

‘ _Ha! Y/N Locke. Finally thought you’d give Hogwarts a go, ey?_ ’

Y/N agreed silently. The hat remained silent for a few moments as it ‘assessed’ her.

’ _You’re a clever one, that’s for sure..._ ’~ it said.

‘We can thank my Aunt Dottie for that,’ she thought.

‘ _Now, there’s no need to be modest. There’s a great deal of loyalty, too...a spirit that values hard work. A strong sense of justice..._ ’

The Sorting Hat perked up excitedly:

  
  


“HUFFLEPUFF!”

  
  


The second table from the left boomed with applause; the other houses clapped politely. Y/N smiled genuinely and approached the Hufflepuff table, where students wearing robes with yellow accents and crests with the badger emblem welcomed her home.


	3. ii. New Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY: Y/N meets Cedric Diggory and is welcomed to Hufflepuff House. Classes begin and she sees a little bit more of what Hogwarts has to offer.  
> WORD COUNT: approx. 3.5k

** ii. NEW FRIENDS **

**━━━━━━━━━ ⌁ ϟ ⌁ ━━━━━━━━━**

_ 1st of September, 1993. _

  
  


One of the Hufflepuff prefects had walked alongside Y/N as everybody made their way down to the basement level of the castle, taking the time to wish her a warm welcome and offer his assistance should she ever need it.

Cedric Diggory was starting his fifth year at Hogwarts and had recently been appointed prefect. Y/N tried hard to maintain her composure as he spoke to her; not because Cedric was unkind or unpleasant — she found it was quite the opposite. He was tall and offensively good-looking with his golden brown hair and bright grey eyes, and he was well mannered to boot.

“You’ll be introduced to a student in your year who shares the same class timetable, so it won’t take long to get used to the castle. But I wouldn’t fault you if you ever got lost — even now, sometimes I still get confused,” he said with a smile.

“Well, a hat just sang a song and read my mind, so something tells me this place is going to be full of surprises,” Y/N said.

Cedric laughed softly, “Oh, yes, the hat is the most normal part of it.”

Coming across a painting of a bowl of fruit, Cedric slowed his footsteps and leaned down to Y/N’s height, speaking in her ear: “The kitchens are through there. If you ever want to go in, you just need to tickle the pear.”

“Tickle the pear?” Y/N repeated.

“Yes, you just—“ Cedric wiggled his fingers in the air in demonstration of how one might go about tickling a painting, “—tickle it. And it opens.”

“Huh. Are there any other tickle-able paintings in this place?” Y/N asked.

She started walking again to follow Cedric as he approached a stack of barrels that she hadn’t previously noticed tucked awayin a stone recess in the wall of the corridor.

“Not that I’m aware of, but now that you’ve said that, I should try tickling other paintings on my patrols,” he joked.

Y/N looked away from Cedric to see that a handful of students had disappeared through a hole where a barrel had once been.

“There’s a sort of password you have to do to open the passage to the common room. Here, we’ll wait for it to close again and I’ll show you,” he said, stepping away from the circular entryway.

Y/N followed suit, taking a few steps backwards. After a few moments of waiting the entryway closed up, leaving behind an inconspicuous stack of dusty barrels.

“This is the one you have to tap,” Cedric pointed at the barrel in the middle of the second row, two from the bottom.

“If you tap the wrong barrel or knock incorrectly, one of these other barrels will burst open and drench you in vinegar. Happened to me once back in first year...” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“What do you mean by ‘knock incorrectly’?” Y/N asked.

“You need to tap it in the rhythm of ‘Helga Hufflepuff’. Like this—“

Cedric tapped a pattern on the barrel with his knuckle and it opened back up to reveal the entryway. Cedric smiled and held an arm out towards the entry: “After you.”

Y/N stepped inside and found there was a sloping, earthy passage. After Cedric stepped inside behind her, the barrels closed back up behind them, sealing them in a dim but warm light from the torches along the walls.

Following the passage the rest of the way, it travelled upwards slightly and opened to a large circular room with low ceilings. It was as cosy as one would imagine a badger’s den would be, with lots of warm yellow furniture, honey brown wood, and accents of black. Around a roaring fireplace were several overstuffed couches and seats, with an innumerable amount of cushions placed about for extra comfort.

Along the outer areas of the common room was a single continuous raised wooden platform upon which tables and chairs sat. Round bookshelves were built into the walls, and despite the darkness outside, Y/N could see the gentle swaying of tall grass beyond the circular windows. The common room had an impressive number of plants dotted around, which added a splash of green; some plants were hanging in pots from the ceiling, others sat on bookshelves or tables. Some of the plants looked perfectly average — ferns, flowers, cacti, and succulents. But there were just as many plants that one wouldn’t ever see in the Muggle world, that moved as if they had minds of their own.

Cedric smiled at Y/N’s awestruck look, reminded of the time when he first saw the common room for himself.

“The two doors over there lead to the girls’ and boys’ dormitories, respectively,” Cedric said, pointing at two round doors at the other end of the room.

“Someone should be coming to meet — ah, here we are,” Cedric cut himself off as a young girl looked up from her seat near the fireplace and hopped up to approach them.

“Hi, I’m Leanne,” a girl with dark hair introduced herself.

“Y/N,” she replied, shaking hands with the girl.

“We’re in the same year. I’m sure you’ll be wanting to get settled, shall I take you up to the dorm?” Leanne asked.

“Oh, uh, sure,” Y/N looked back to Cedric. “Thank you for, you know, walking me here and everything.”

Cedric nodded, “It’s no trouble. If you ever need help or a familiar face, come find me — I’ll be around.”

With one more dazzling smile, Cedric waved goodbye and Y/N watched as he disappeared back down the passageway and out of the common room.

Turning back to Leanne, Y/N saw a wicked grin on the girls face.

“Ohh, getting friendly with Mr. Diggory?” She whispered excitedly, a suggestive hint in her tone.

Y/N flushed and shook her head profusely, “No, no, it’s nothing like that, he’s just being nice. Doing his job and all.”

Leanne bit back her smile.

“Alright, whatever you say. But it wasn’t exactly his job to walk with you all the way here,” she said, a knowing look on her face.

Y/N followed Leanne through the round door. It opened up to a small room with stone walls, a single spiral staircase just head. There was a door on the ground level nearby: “That’s the first year dorm,” said Leanne.

As they ascended the stairs, they passed another door — there was one door per level — and Leanne said it was the second year dorm. As they reached the third door, Leanne stopped.

“And this is us,” she said.

Leanne knocked quickly and opened the door, calling out: “New girl coming in, so I hope nobody’s naked!”

“We aren’t naked, Lea,” a voice called out.

“Alright, we’re safe,” Leanne gestured for Y/N to pass her.

Y/N found that the dormitory was not unlike the common room. It was round, with smooth stone walls. A heater sat in the middle of the room, and five four-poster beds were arranged around the room. On one end of the room was a closed door which Y/N assumed led to a bathroom, and on the other end, there were a few more of those round windows.

“Y/N, these are the other Hufflepuff girls in our year. This is Hannah Abbott,” Leanne pointed at the blonde girl who had spoken before.

“This is Susan Bones,” Leanne gestured to a ginger girl sat cross-legged on a bed in her pyjamas.

Leanne nodded her head towards the last girl, “And that’s Megan Jones. Girls, this is Y/N Locke.”

Megan waved, but seemed too engrossed in a book to pay much attention to anything else. Hannah, just before disappearing into the bathroom with her pyjamas in hand, greeted Y/N with a polite welcome.

Susan Bones stood up from her bed and shook Y/N’s hand, “Welcome! Your bed’s over here, between Leanne and I.”

Susan guided Y/N over to the other side of the room, where her luggage sat arranged at the foot of her bed. The bed itself looked incredibly inviting, with that same honey coloured wood as the furniture in the common room, and a mattress that looked like it was stuffed with clouds. Thick yellow drapes with thin black stripes were half-closed around the bed.

“I don’t want to bombard you with questions on the first night, but I’m curious — did you transfer here from another school?” Susan asked.

“I was homeschooled, actually,” Y/N said.

“Wow, so this must be very different, then,” Susan said.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Y/N laughed breathily.

“Well, don’t be afraid to ask us questions if you need to. I think Leanne’s got the same timetable as you, right?” Susan asked.

“Yes, we’re in the same classes. Professor Sprout — that’s our head of house — she told me I was going to be helping you find your way around the castle. So it looks like you’ll be my shadow tomorrow,” Leanne smiled, nudging Y/N with her elbow on her way to her bed.

Y/N breathed a little easier after meeting Cedric and her dormmates; she hoped the rest of Hufflepuff house — and the school — would be just as welcoming. Remembering the people she had met on the train, like that nice Hermione girl who had talked to her like an old friend, she made a mental note to try and foster those ties if she could.

After getting ready for bed, Y/N fished out her writing set. She penned a letter to her Aunt Dottie, talking about the small amount of Hogwarts she had glimpsed thus far. The pen wavered above the page, though, as she debated whether or not to include the incident on the train with the dementor. Her aunt would throw a fit if she thought she had already been put in danger. Though Harry Potter had not gotten through completely unscathed, Y/N was all well and good now. A professor had been right beside her the whole time. Y/N decided that — no, it was not vital that she told her aunt about it. It would only do to worry her, and Y/N was certain that her aunt was already worried enough having her be the farthest away from home she had ever been.

With a few more sentences wishing her aunt well, Y/N folded the letter and promised to find a way to send it at the earliest opportunity the next day.

  
  


**━━━━━━━━━ ⌁ ϟ ⌁ ━━━━━━━━━**

_ 2nd of September, 1993. _

Bathed in the light of day, Hogwarts looked like a completely different place. It was more cheerful, more filled with warmth. The castle had not been particularly sinister at nighttime, but it did indeed have an air of ancient mystery and haunting enchantment, and Y/N felt that the castle had eyes set upon her at all times.

In the daytime, it felt no less ancient, but all the more merry. The shadowy mystique had disappeared along with the moonlight, and as students engaged in lively chatter over their breakfasts in the Great Hall, it felt — perhaps truly for the first time — like a school.

A student walked along the table handing out class schedules. The layout was a bit confusing at first, but Y/N found her excitement building after looking at all the different classes she would be taking. She wondered how she would cope with the subject material now that she was learning at an actual school. Would she know less than the other students and have to catch up on what she’d missed? Or would she know more than the average Hogwarts student, perhaps?

“We’ve got Charms up first,” said Leanne. “You’ll like Professor Flitwick, he’s a good teacher.”

Professor Flitwick, Y/N found, was very likeable; he seemed gentle and kind. For their first lesson of the year they started on the Cheering Charm, and while Y/N had succeeded in casting the spell on her partner, she had overdone it and poor Leanne could not stop laughing hysterically until the professor fixed the issue. Flitwick, it turned out, also had a sense of humour — he himself was giggling quietly at the predicament that Leanne and several other students found themselves in at the hands of their class partners.

Directly after Charms class, they had History of Magic. To Y/N’s dismay, the professor was dreadfully boring. It was as if his droning voice had a hypnotic quality to it that made everyone feel tired. When she had learnt the material at home, Aunt Dottie had been far more engaging in her delivery. Y/N supposed that it was only natural that the teaching style of Professor Binns — a ghost — was dead.

Lunch had followed that, and then they had a long break before Herbology with the Gryffindors would start.

“I’m going to head to the courtyard with my friend Katie from Gryffindor, did you want to come?” Leanne asked.

Y/N considered the offer but remembered the letter in her pocket.

“Thank you, but I think I’ll explore a bit. Actually, do you know where I can go to send a letter back home?”

“You can use one of the school’s owls up in the Owlery, that’s up in the West Tower.”

After receiving some vaguely helpful directions from Leanne, Y/N set out for the Owlery.

She received curious glances from students of all four houses along the way, though she tried to ignore them.

Y/N quickly became lost. Having no real inner sense of direction, and with school hallways that looked awfully identical to her, she was almost certain that she wasn’t going the right way anymore. Logically, she knew that nobody else would actually know by glancing at her that she was hopelessly aimless. But with the way that almost every student in the third year or above kept looking at her when they walked by her, it felt like she was being critiqued and judged.

And because of this, she nearly cried with relief when she saw somebody that she actually _knew_.

“Hermione! Thank _God_ ,” Y/N sighed, almost skipping with joy at the sight of the brunette.

Hermione jolted and had a surprised look on her face at Y/N’s enthusiastic greeting, but then she looked quite happy.

“Hi, Y/N, it’s good to see you again! Congratulations on making Hufflepuff, by the way,” Hermione said.

“Thank you, it’s good to see you again, too. This is kind of embarrassing, but I need to get to the Owlery and I have no idea where I’m going,” Y/N said sheepishly.

Hermione looked pleasantly surprised once again. “I’m actually heading there myself. And it’s not embarrassing at all, you haven’t even been here for a full day yet so it’s no wonder you’re lost in this place.”

Y/N walked with Hermione outside of the castle. The number of students around quickly lessened as they got further out, and eventually they were walking up the steps of a tower. Y/N heard the screeching of owls before she saw them.

“Feels a bit archaic, but this is pretty cool,” Y/N said as she tied her letter to one of the school owl’s legs as per Hermione’s instruction.

“I thought so too,” Hermione said, “but you get used to it. It seems quite normal now”.

Y/N ducked as the brown owl flew over her head and out of the tower with her letter.

“How do they know where to go?” Y/N asked.

Hermione shrugged. “They just do, I suppose. I think some animals have more magical ability than others. Like my cat, Crookshanks — I just got him this August. He’s lovely, very intelligent. I think he can understand what I’m saying sometimes.”

A second owl, this one a snowy white, flew off with Hermione’s letter.

“Have you been to the library yet?” Hermione asked.

“No,” Y/N said.

“I’m going there now, if you want to join me. I mean — it’s okay if you can’t, I’m sure there’s loads of other people that you want to meet —“

“Take me to this library right now.”

Hermione beamed brighter than a lighthouse.

They rushed down the Owlery steps and back towards the castle, Hermione gushing about one of her favourite places at Hogwarts along the way.

  
  


“ _Just wait til you see it!_ ”

“ _There’s so many books, it’s unbelievable._ ”

“ _Oh, it’s so nice to have someone just as excited about it as I am._ ”

When they reached the library, Y/N paused in the entryway in awe. Books were rows upon rows, stacks upon stacks. Countless tomes older than she was lined the shelves, and books floated upwards out of the hands of students to return themselves to the shelf. There were study tables all around the room, and Y/N was sure that there were more hidden amongst the winding rows of bookshelves. She could only say one thing:

“Wow.”

  
  


Y/N had only ever really seen the small bookshop in her village, and Flourish and Blotts at Diagon Alley. This was the biggest collection of books she’d ever seen, and they were all books about magic and the wizarding world. She didn’t even know where to start.

“There’re a lot of different sections,” Hermione said, and then she began listing off sections of the library on her fingers: “There’s Reference, Legal, Potions, there’s even a whole section just about dragons, and—“

“Yes! Take me to that one,” Y/N grabbed Hermione’s arm in excitement.

“Shh!” A woman shushed her — ironically — very loudly.

“Madam Pince is very strict,” Hermione whispered, “Doesn’t like loud students.”

“Got it,” Y/N whispered with a nod.

Hermione led Y/N to the mother load. Like a child who was allowed by their parents to run free in a sweet shop, Y/N felt the need to point out every single book about dragons to her new friend. Hermione seemed amused by it more than anything.

“Hagrid’s going to love you,” Hermione mumbled.

“Huh? What’d you say?” Y/N said, not really paying attention.

Looking along the titles of the books, Y/N pulled out a book titled ‘ _Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland_ ’.

“Nothing,” Hermione said. “I can only assume that you’re taking Care of Magical Creatures as an elective, then?”

Y/N finally looked over at Hermione at the mention of her most anticipated class. She nodded enthusiastically, “Of course.”

“I have to go look for a book for Potions class. I’ll be nearby, but it seems like you’re pretty happy over here.”

Hermione turned to leave, stopping to linger for a moment when Y/N opened her mouth to speak.

Y/N then hesitated for a moment, eyes flickering between her book and Hermione a few times. Eventually, she said in a hopeful but questioning voice: “Do you think there’ll be—“

“No, there won’t be any dragons in the class.”

“Right, yeah, of course, that’d be crazy...” Y/N laughed it off and Hermione began to walk away. “...Crazy _awesome_ ,” Y/N muttered quietly.

“I heard that,” Hermione said with a grin as she disappeared behind a bookshelf.

Y/N sat on a nearby chair and flicked through the book for a while, the rest of the world disappearing.

Her inner peace was abruptly disrupted by two heads of fiery red hair.

“Hello there,” they said, speaking at the same time.

When she looked up from her book, Y/N saw a pair of tall identical twins.

“Hi,” Y/N said unsurely.

“You’re the new girl, aren’t you? Heard about you from ickle Ronniekins,” one of them said.

“What’s a Ronniekins?” Y/N asked.

“A nuisance,” the other one answered quickly.

“I’m Fred Weasley,” the first one said.

“George Weasley,” said the second one.

“We just saw you reading over here and thought we’d best introduce ourselves,” said Fred.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m Y/N Locke,” Y/N said, closing the book with her finger between the pages to keep her place.

“Dragons, ey?” Fred said, pointing to the book.

“That for school or personal interest?” George asked.

“Personal interest,” Y/N said.

“Ahh, well, our dear older brother Charlie actually works with dragons in Romania, you know,” George said.

“Really?” Y/N asked.

“Really,” Fred leaned on the bookshelf in an effort to look casual. “So I guess we know a little bit about dragons—“

“What are you two doing?” Hermione had returned.

“Nothing!” They spoke in sync again.

“Why do you always assume we’re up to something, Granger?” George asked.

“Because you _are_ always up to something,” Hermione said disapprovingly.

“We are not!” Fred said, acting deeply offended by Hermione’s claim, only to wink cheekily in Y/N’s direction.

In addition to the fact that they were also identical twins, Fred and George reminded an awful lot of Ruby and Olive.

Y/N giggled.

“What?” All three of them said.

“Nothing — they just remind me of someone,” Y/N answered.

“Who?” the twins asked eagerly.

“Just a few twelve-year-old girls I know,” Y/N said with a small smirk.

Fred gasped melodramatically, “Is she insulting us, George?”

“I think she is, Freddie,” George said, a hand clasped over his heart.

“I’m not, I swear,” Y/N laughed.

Once again, weight of uncertainty was lifted from Y/N’s heart. Perhaps making new friends wouldn’t be as scary as she thought.


	4. iii. Potions & Boggarts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY: Y/N adjusts more to life at Hogwarts, visits Hagrid’s hut, and has her first Potions and DADA lessons.
> 
> WORD COUNT: approx. 6k
> 
> NOTES: This is in the tags of the story, but just as a note, this story is going to continue to roughly follow different parts of the books and movies.

**iii. POTIONS & BOGGARTS**

**━━━━━━━━━ ⌁ ϟ ⌁ ━━━━━━━━━**

_5th of September, 1993._

  
  


_’Dear Y/N,_

_I’m sorry I couldn’t write sooner, I’ve been a bit busy the past couple of days and wasn’t home to receive your letter._

_I’m happy to hear that you’re enjoying Hogwarts so far. But I’m very disappointed that you aren’t in Ravenclaw like your mother, grandfather and I were!_

_Did I get you? I bet I did._

_Of course I’m not disappointed — some of my best friends at school were in Hufflepuff. Did you know that badgers, despite the cute and cuddly appearances, can actually be quite ferocious little devils if they’re antagonised? Sounds like somebody I know..._

_And this Hermione sounds like a lovely girl, I’m sure she’ll become a good friend._

_Make sure to pay attention in all of your classes. I know you’re probably more clever than everyone else there already (I’ve taught you well, it’s just an objective statement), but there is always something new to be learnt._

_Be polite to your teachers, even if they’re annoying. Never skip a meal! And please, for the sake of my heart health, don’t join the Quidditch team. I would rather your bones remain in their unbroken state._

_Stay safe._

_Lots of love,_

_Aunt Dottie xoxo’_

The past few days had been much like the first one for Y/N. Occasionally getting lost in the gigantic school, spending time with Hermione in the library, and marvelling at all of the strange quirks of Hogwarts Castle. She’d had her first Care of Magical Creatures lesson on Friday with other the Hufflepuffs and the Ravenclaws; they’d learnt about hippogriffs. Apparently a boy named Draco Malfoy in Slytherin was “maimed” by one of the “beasts”, though Harry was adamant that he had brought it on himself, really. Whoever this Draco Malfoy was, he sounded like somebody she wasn’t interested in being friends with. Hermione didn’t have to say much about her experience with the boy for Y/N to understand what his attitude towards other people was like; she had been disappointed but not shocked to find out that there were some students at Hogwarts who viewed their blood status as superior to others. 

On a more positive note, she had officially met Rubeus Hagrid — somebody who the trio, especially Harry, held in very high regard. Hagrid had been so over the moon to see her enthusiasm for the class that after Friday’s lesson, he invited her to come down to his hut that weekend along with Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Y/N had also met more Hufflepuffs in those couple of days. Being at a boarding school, it was impossible to go very long without learning people’s names and recognising faces. Ernie Macmillan was a little bit pompous sometimes, but he was honest, meant well, and had become a friend — he was certainly someone she’d feel comfortable approaching in the corridors. Y/N hadn’t talked much to Justin Finch-Fletchley yet, but he was one of Ernie’s friends and also seemed like a nice guy. Another boy named Zacharias Smith was polite, but seemed a bit knobbish.

  


It only took one more day at Hogwarts for Y/N to realise that Cedric Diggory was somewhat of a golden boy, but the knowledge was not all that surprising. He’d left quite the lasting impression on her after their first meeting. The students who knew him all seemed to like him — the female population of the school especially. More than a few times, Y/N had spotted gaggles of giggling girls hanging around wherever he went. She’d also learnt that he was the new captain and seeker of the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. He was apparently a very good student, too. Y/N deduced that this meant he was so far out of her league that she wouldn’t even be able to catch up if she was riding one of those fancy Nimbus brooms.

She was ever so surprised, then, when Cedric continued to acknowledge her whenever they crossed paths. The first night they had met, she assumed it was just him being a dutiful prefect. Now, she supposed that her being the new kid and all, Cedric had tasked himself with the duty of making her feel welcome at the school.

Her time spent with her new friend Hermione meant that she, by default, also became more acquainted with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Fred and George made guest appearances occasionally; they were in the same year as Cedric, and they also played Quidditch. They were beaters, while Harry was the Gryffindor seeker.

Y/N slept in a little longer than usual on that Sunday morning. It was no matter, though, because she was supposed to meet Hermione and the others at about quarter to twelve to head down to Hagrid’s.

After getting dressed and ready for the morning in her casual clothes, she walked past the students in the common room, down through the earthy passageway, out the barrel entry, and into the corridor.

Curiosity kept her feet from leading her in the direction of the Great Hall. Staring at the painting of the bowl of fruit, she remembered Cedric mentioning on the first night that it opened to the kitchens.

With a quick glance around to see if anybody else was in the hallway — not that she was doing anything particularly nefarious, it couldn’t be, a prefect told her to do it — she lifted her hand and... _tickled_ the pear.

For a short second, nothing happened, and Y/N felt like an idiot who’d been hazed by her older housemate. But then the pear shrieked a high-pitched giggle, vibrated, and turned into a gleaming doorknob.

Y/N cautiously twisted the doorknob and the painting opened up like a door. Warm air carrying the smell of food wafted out of the doorway and Y/N’s stomach grumbled. She was thankful now that she had checked nobody else was around.

Stepping in with slow footsteps, still unsure if this was technically breaking any rules, she soon found a large kitchen with dozens of...House-elves?

The small creatures, which had previously been walking about the kitchen or talking amongst themselves, all stopped and stared in silence with big, round eyes at Y/N.

“Welcome, miss!” A House-elf jumped down from a stool and ran over to Y/N.

When the female House-elf reached Y/N, almost bumping into her legs, it tugged on her hand and led her towards a small table.

“You is wanting breakfast then, yes? Good time, good time, more pancakes just done!” The House-elf said, pointing animatedly at a stack of steaming pancakes.

“Oh, thank you, sorry to barge in like this, I don’t want to be a bother—“

“No bother, no bother at all. Pokey is happy to serve you, miss,” the House-elf said, introducing herself with a quick nod.

Y/N was essentially forced into a chair by the incredibly hospitable House-elf, Pokey.

“You is a _Huffinpuff_?” Pokey asked, sliding a plate with pancakes and fruit towards Y/N along with cutlery and a goblet of juice.

“Yes, this is my first week here,” Y/N said.

Pokey squealed. “Mine, too! Well, second week. Well, third week. It’s Pokey’s third week, it is, but first week — third week — much the same.”

Pokey had boundless amounts of energy, it seemed. She continued bouncing around the kitchen and performing various tasks all while engaging in conversation with Y/N whenever she was walking by. Y/N happily worked away at the food, and started heading to the sink to do her dishes when another House-elf came out of nowhere and snatched them from her hands, saying: “My job!”

She found the House-elves quite wonderful, really, and hoped to visit them again some time.

After saying goodbye to Pokey, Y/N left the kitchens and saw that it was almost time to meet the others.

They had agreed to meet outside the Great Hall — one of the places they knew the poor directionally-challenged Y/N Locke would definitely know how to get to.

When she reached the Great Hall, she saw that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all wearing casual clothes, too.

The walk to Hagrid’s hut was a rather pleasant one. The crisp, clean air, grassy slopes, and stone footpaths reminded Y/N a bit of her village. She felt homesick already. She supposed this was bound to happen, though, seeing as it was her first time being truly _away_ from home. But Hogwarts had been welcoming and lovely so far, and already it felt like a second home. The homesickness would ease with time.

Semi-meaningless conversation took place much of the way to Hagrid’s hut. Mostly Ron and Harry complaining about Potions — making Y/N more nervous for her first Potions lesson the following day.

“He’s a right old git, that Snape,” Ron said.

“Please, make her dread the class even more, Ronald,” Hermione said sarcastically.

“Well she’s got to be prepared, doesn’t she? Know what she’s in for!” Ron defended.

Ron and Hermione bickered back and forth for a bit and Harry slowed to match Y/N’s pace.

“Don’t worry, it isn’t _that_ bad,” Harry said, a look on his face like he didn’t believe a word he’d just said.

“It really is that bad, isn’t it?” Y/N laughed, half-nervously, half-amused.

“Yes,” Harry said simply, nodding.

Y/N sighed. “Oh well. I guess there have got to be a few jerks everywhere, right? To maintain balance in the Force.”

Harry quirked an eyebrow in vague recognition. “Is that Star Wars?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, “You’ve seen it?”

Harry shrugged. “Not really, just little bits whenever Dudley was watching a movie.”

“Dudley?”

Harry frowned, “My cousin. He’s dreadful.”

“Well, with a name like ‘Dudley’...”

Harry and Y/N made only a moment of eye contact before short chuckles erupted out of them.

“But, about Potions class, don’t worry too much. Snape is...well, just keep your head down, I reckon. He’s had it out for me ever since first year for no reason, but he’ll probably lay off you a bit if you don’t give him any reason to call you out on something,” Harry explained.

Y/N nodded and thanked him for the advice, but she wondered how on Earth somebody could hate him, even somebody as grumpy as Snape apparently was. Harry, despite only having known him for just under a week, seemed like a sweetheart to Y/N. A bit sassy, even. And quite frankly, kind of a dork — and Y/N meant that in the most endearing way possible. But there was something else there, too, something that made Harry stick out amongst the other people she’d met. Something hidden, something almost sad and forlorn but still somehow determined, a personal mission in life that needed fulfilling. It was when those thoughts came to her that she remembered he was indeed _the_ Harry Potter. But it was so easy to forget that so quickly, when to her, he just seemed like...Harry. Just Harry.

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“Make yerselves at home!” Hagrid said happily.

A large black boarhound named Fang had sniffed at Y/N’s shoes before jumping up in fierce demand of pats, and Y/N was ever so happy to oblige.

As Y/N and Harry had opted to share one of the gigantic seats, Hermione was annoyed to be left to share with the ginger that she’d been arguing with on the way over. But Y/N thought, just for a second, that she saw an almost _shy_ look on Hermione’s face as she settled next to Ron.

The visit with Hagrid had been nice. The topic of all sorts of magical creatures, including dragons, quickly came up. Ron, Harry, and Hermione all watched as Y/N and Hagrid conversed about dragons with varying reactions; a hint of worry, vague amusement, the face one gets when reliving a past trauma.

“I would love to see a dragon in real life. Even just a little one,” Y/N sighed dreamily.

“I ‘ad a baby once! L’il Norbert!” Hagrid loudly blew his nose with teary eyes after that.

Once the dragon discussion died down, Y/N was once more answering questions about homeschool education. She didn’t mind, though.

“How did ya learn about creatures doing homeschoolin’?” Hagrid asked.

“Books, mainly. Never actually been able to see them much until now — although my aunt did have a friend with a pet Crup come over once. I think I may’ve seen a Bowtruckle for a second once, but it easily could’ve been a regular stick insect.”

“Buckbeak seemed ter take a shine to ya in the class, so you’re welcome ta come over whenever ya like,” Hagrid said.

“Thanks, Hagrid,” Y/N smiled, almost biting into a rock cake only for Harry to subtly push it away from her with an expression that read _‘you don’t want to eat that’_.

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_ 6th of September, 1993. _

Y/N walked into the Potions classroom. It was down in the dungeons, much colder than the other classrooms had been so far. It was undeniably creepier, too, with jars of pickled animals and other potion ingredients lining the shelves on the walls.

  


Professor Snape stood at the front of the class and impatiently waited for the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws to sit down so he could do the roll call.

Y/N sat next to Ernie, with Leanne and Anthony Goldstein from Ravenclaw sitting across from them. Professor Snape seemed thoroughly bored by the task of calling out students names.

“Goldstein.”

“Present,” Anthony responded.

Y/N quietly unpacked her things as he called out a few more students’ names.

“Locke,” said Snape.

Y/N looked up toward the front of the classroom. “Present.”

Snape briefly looked up to identify the new student and looked back down at the roster with a sneer.

The roll call was completed a short time later and Snape spoke briefly to the class about the potion they were going to brew that lesson. With a flick of his wand, the instructions for the potion appeared on the blackboard. Students paired up with the ones sitting next to them.

“I’ll get the ingredients. Can you prep the cauldron?” Ernie said, walking off towards the supply shelves.

Y/N did just that as Leanne did the same across from her.

“We’ve got Defence Against the Dark Arts later,” Leanne said. “I wonder what Professor Lupin is like.”

Ernie reappeared with the ingredients, “Let’s hope he’s not as bad as the last two.”

He spotted the questioning look on Y/N’s face and elaborated.

“First year, we had some jittery bloke who only lasted the year. Nobody knows what really went down but something happened. Either he resigned, left, went missing — some say he might’ve died in some sort of accident,” Ernie said as he prepared the ingredients. Y/N had come to learn that good ole Ernie loved a bit of gossip.

“Damn,” Y/N whispered.

“Yeah. Crazy stuff. Then last year, we had this—“ Ernie paused to scoff “—this _idiot_ of a teacher. Can’t imagine how he was hired in the first place, he couldn’t teach us a _thing_. Ridiculous, really. It’s lucky I had the self-motivation to do all those extra hours of studying just to learn the basics...anyway, he didn’t last either, obviously. I think he’s in St. Mungo’s now. Gilderoy Lockhart, heard of him?”

Y/N added a set of fairy wings to the cauldron. “I read one of his books a few years ago. Didn’t bother with any more after that, though. He seemed a bit full of himself.”

“Hear, hear,” Ernie sighed, “I think he’d marry himself if he could.”

Y/N giggled and watched the potion change colour. Ernie added the doxy eggs.

Snape, apparently drawn to the offensive sound of laughter and chatter, suddenly appeared at their table.

“This is not a common room, Locke, Macmillan. You can gossip in your own time,” said Snape.

Ernie apologised almost immediately.

Snape’s shark-like eyes bore into Y/N and she wasn’t sure whether to maintain eye contact or look away uncomfortably.

“I don’t know what sort of loose education you’ve received thus far, Ms. Locke, but at a proper school, students do not talk when they are supposed to be working. I would expect you have much catching up to do to reach the standard expected of Hogwarts students,” Snape said, face set in a glare.

Y/N now understood what Harry had been on about.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and with anger. The implication that just because she was homeschooled, she was far behind the other students? Her aunt was one of the smartest people she knew and she worked incredibly hard to teach Y/N multiple subjects.

“I was homeschooled by a perfectly capable teacher and I was taught the same things that everyone else here was. I wasn’t educated in a ditch,” Y/N snapped, too ruffled by Snape’s words to stop herself.

Ernie looked at Y/N like she’d grown two heads. Leanne awkwardly busied herself with her potion, pretending that she wasn’t paying attention.

Snape looked furious.

“Clearly you _also_ lack a proper education in manners.”

“I could say the same about you, sir,” Y/N said quickly.

_Oh no_ , Y/N thought. _Bad move_.

Several students gasped. Once again, Y/N had spoken too soon. As soon as the words left her mouth, she cursed herself for not keeping her thoughts to herself.

If Snape looked angry before, now he was positively _seething_ with fury and hatred.

“Ten points from Hufflepuff House for your insolence, Locke,” Snape hissed, looking like he wanted nothing more than to toss Y/N into the Black Lake.

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“Bloody brilliant!” Ron cried.

“No, it’s not!” Hermione said sternly.

Y/N had recounted the details of her first Potions lesson to the trio over lunch after being waved over to the Gryffindor table by a curious Harry. Hermione had rushed into the Great Hall not long after Y/N arrived, panting slightly and tucking something down the front of her robes.

“I’ll have to agree with Ron on this one, Hermione,” Harry grinned, patting Y/N on the shoulder with something akin to pride.

“Of course you would,” Hermione muttered. “But seriously, Y/N, you can’t talk back to teachers like that.”

“I know! I have been to school before, you know, I’ve only been homeschooled the last two years.”

“That’s not what I meant. I just mean that, well, you just can’t talk back to Professor Snape especially,” Hermione said.

“He’s really unfair,” said Ron.

“Give him an inch and he’ll take a mile,” Harry agreed.

Y/N sighed, leaning on her palm. “I know I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m not usually argumentative like that, you know? But I can’t stand when authority figures treat people unfairly. It got me all riled up and I just wasn’t thinking.”

“What class do you have next?” Hermione asked.

“I’ve got Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Y/N said.

Harry perked up. “So have we.”

“Great! That’s two classes we have together,” Hermione said, taking a rushed bite of her lunch.

“Was that sarcastic?” Y/N asked.

Hermione shook her head quickly and swallowed her mouthful. “No! It wasn’t, I swear, I really do look forward to —“

Hermione paused when Y/N started giggling.

“You’re only joking around, aren’t you?” Hermione asked.

“Yep.”

Harry and Ron chuckled, and Hermione sighed like a tired mother would.

“Hang on, if we’ve only got Defence this afternoon — what’s all this, then?” Ron asked.

Ron pointed at Hermione’s book bag, which was almost overflowing with schoolbooks. The seam had even started to tear, showing some of the covers of the books.

“You haven’t got any of those subjects today,” Ron wondered.

“Oh, that’s right,” Hermione said dismissively.

Y/N, Harry, and Ron all exchanged confused looks, but nobody said anything more on the matter.

Y/N returned to the Hufflepuff table shortly after, sitting with Ernie and Leanne again.

“Sorry about earlier, guys,” Y/N said sheepishly.

“What’re you apologising to us for? I thought it was pretty badass,” Leanne said.

“She’s apologising because of the house points she lost,” Ernie said.

“Oh, right.”

Justin Finch-Fletchley slid over on the bench to join the discussion: “That just makes it more punk rock.”

“Don’t encourage her, Justin,” Ernie said, trying to hide the smile that proved his silent agreement with Justin’s statement. “She’s got her education at stake here, she can’t be telling off the teachers.”

“Stop trying to hide it, Ernie, you loved it just as much as we did,” Leanne said with a smirk.

“I wish I was brave enough to stand up to him like that...” said Justin.

“I think it was more lack of forethought on my part than bravery, to be honest,” Y/N said.

“At least you’ll know better for next time. Professor Snape’s quite biased, he really favours all of the Slytherin students over everyone else. Personally, I believe that if a Slytherin had said what you said today, they wouldn’t have received the same punishment,” said Ernie.

Y/N huffed, glancing quickly up at the staff table where Snape usually sat, though he wasn’t there.

“I really hate people like that. Showing favouritism and using your position of power as an excuse to act like a knob...he’s supposed to be the adult here — an impartial educator. I know I’m not one to talk after today, but he should keep all that out of the classroom,” said Y/N.

“Couldn’t agree more,” said Justin, lifting a goblet of pumpkin juice in agreement.

“You can just tell when he’s taking something out on the students, too. If he’s angry about something, he’s extra critical of everyone,” said Leanne.

“Except Slytherins,” Ernie added.

The bell signalled the end of lunch. Y/N walked with Ernie, Leanne, and Justin in the direction of the DADA classroom. The crowds of students thinned the closer they got until only their class of Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors remained.

Students filed into the classroom, whispering amongst themselves in anticipation of their first lesson with the new professor. Y/N was particularly curious and excited after having been there when Professor Lupin dismissed a _dementor_ as if it were nothing more than a petty nuisance.

Professor Lupin was nowhere to be seen when they entered the classroom, so everybody just sat in their seats and took out their materials while talking amongst themselves.

When the professor did arrive, he put his briefcase on his desk and smiled at the class. Y/N, sitting beside Leanne, noted that Professor Lupin looked a bit perkier than he had back on the train; better rested.

Everybody was curious but pleasantly surprised when Professor Lupin told them all to pack away their books.

“Today, we’ll be having a practical lesson. You’ll only need your wands,” said Lupin.

After the students had packed away their things, they were instructed to follow Professor Lupin out of the classroom. A few excited whispers bounced around as everyone shuffled out of the room.

“I wonder what his teaching style is like. Never had a practical lesson for this class before,” Ernie whispered.

“Well, unless you count that time Lockhart set the pixies loose on us,” said Justin.

Y/N turned around to look up at the two taller boys with a puzzled expression.

“Absolute mayhem,” Ernie said, confirming the story to be true.

Y/N raised her eyebrows but said nothing, turning back to the front. The group suddenly stopped walking and she saw a kind of ghostly figure before them.

Several students groaned.

The being was floating in midair and stuffing a keyhole to the brim with chewing gum. It looked up and wiggled its feet, bursting into song:

“Loony, loopy Lupin! Loony, loopy, Lupin!”

“What the hell...” Y/N whispered.

“That’s Peeves, that is,” Justin explained, “A right pain in the—“

“ _Loony, loopy Lupin!_ ”

“Peeves is a poltergeist,” said Leanne. “He’s really annoying, so I’d steer clear if you can help it, Y/N.”

“He only listens to the Bloody Baron. That’s the Slytherin ghost. He won’t even listen to prefects!” Ernie said.

Everybody stared at Professor Lupin to see how he would handle the poltergeist’s taunts. Surprisingly, he had a smile on his face.

“I’d take that gum out of the keyhole if I were you, Peeves,” said Lupin. “Mr. Filch won’t be able to get to his brooms, otherwise.”

Y/N remembered Filch being pointed out by Dumbledore during the start of term announcements. He was the caretaker; grumpy and bad-tempered, he didn’t seem to care much for the students.

Peeves blew a loud, wet raspberry in defiance. Professor Lupin sighed in resignation, taking out his wand.

He looked back at the class over his shoulder: “This is a useful little spell. Please watch closely.”

Y/N tried standing on her tiptoes to see over the shoulders of the tall people in front of her. With a small pout, she almost admitted defeat, but Ernie nudged her and pointed to the spot in front of him where a gap allowed her to see through.

Thanking Ernie with a smile, she watched closely as Professor Lupin cleared his throat.

“Waddiwasi!” Lupin said, pointing his wand at Peeves.

The gum immediately shot out of the keyhole and straight up Peeves’ nostril. Cursing, the poltergeist whirled away and out of the corridor.

“Cool, sir!” A Gryffindor boy said.

“Thank you, Dean,” said Professor Lupin as he tucked away his wand. “Shall we proceed?”

The class followed Professor Lupin, even more students whispering after that. There was an increased air of respect and excitement.

Y/N walked silently until she felt another presence join her.

“That was pretty cool,” said Harry.

“I’ll say. So far, this is certainly an upgrade from Snape’s lesson,” Y/N said quietly. Harry nodded in agreement.

The students ended up in the staff room. Only one other teacher was in there.

“Speak of the devil,” Y/N muttered to Harry, who looked more than a little ticked off to see Snape.

Lupin made to close the staff door behind him after all of the students had entered, but Snape stopped him.

“Leave it open, Lupin. I’d rather not witness this,” Snape said, standing from the low armchair he’d been sitting in.

“Imagine sharing a staff room with Snippy,” Y/N whispered to Harry, who almost snorted.

Snape swiftly strode past the class, a permanent sneer etched on his face. “Possibly no one’s warned you, Lupin, but this class contains Neville Longbottom. I would advise you not to entrust him with anything difficult. Not unless Miss Granger is hissing instructions in his ear.”

A boy nearby, who Y/N recognised from the train ride as Neville, went bright red in embarrassment. Harry was glaring at Snape with the heat of a thousand suns.

“Actually, I was hoping that Neville would assist me in the demonstration,” said Lupin, “and I am sure he will perform admirably.”

Y/N felt a sense of relief and a surge of respect for the teacher after Professor Lupin had stood up for Neville — who was even more pink now.

Snape left without another word, glaring at Harry and Y/N on his way out.

Lupin beckoned the class forward where they could see an old wardrobe. As Lupin neared it, the wardrobe began to shake violently. Leanne jumped in surprise from the other side of Y/N.

“Nothing to worry about. There’s a Boggart in there,” Professor Lupin said calmly.

Ernie made an odd sort of strangled noise of protest from behind Y/N.

Y/N herself suddenly looked nervous. Harry glanced over at her briefly and did a double take when he saw the expression on her face.

“What?” He asked, now noticing that several other students around him had the same looks on their faces.

Neville looked terrified. Seamus was eyeing the wardrobe apprehensively.

“This Boggart moved in yesterday afternoon. They like dark, confined spaces, you see. So I asked the headmaster if the staff would leave it so I could let my third years practise,” Lupin explained. “So, the first question: what exactly _is_ a Boggart?”

Y/N slowly raised her hand. Professor Lupin smiled and nodded at her to answer.

“It’s a shape-shifting non-being. It takes on the form of whatever a person is most afraid of,” Y/N said.

“Couldn’t have put it better myself,” said Professor Lupin.

“Nice work, Y/N,” Ernie whispered.

“The Boggart in the wardrobe has not yet assumed a form — he has no one to frighten yet. Nobody knows what a Boggart looks like in its natural form, but when I let him out, he will become what each of us fears.”

Many of the students shifted uncomfortably at the professor’s words, trying to take steps further away from the wardrobe without anyone noticing.

“But this means that we have a distinct advantage over the Boggart. Harry, have you spotted it?” Lupin asked.

Harry looked away from Hermione, who was bobbing up and down on her feet excitedly.

“Because there are so many of us...it won’t know which form to take?” Harry said unsurely.

“Precisely,” said Lupin, and Hermione looked a bit disappointed that she didn’t get to answer.

Y/N elbowed Harry gently as a way of congratulations.

Professor Lupin went on to describe the problems that could arise for a Boggart when it got confused by being faced with too many different people. According to Lupin, the key to finishing off a Boggart was laughter.

“We will practise the charm without wands first. Repeat after me, please... _riddikulus!_ ”

  
“Riddikulus!” The class chorused.

“Good, very good. But I’m afraid that’s the easy part.”

Professor Lupin summoned Neville Longbottom to the front, who shook slightly in fear as he stood before the whole class.

Lupin asked Neville what he feared the most, but the only answer anyone heard was a small mumble. After being asked to repeat himself, Neville answered quietly: “Professor Snape.”

Y/N tried to stifle her giggle as much of the rest of the class chuckled. Even Neville was sheepishly amused.

“Neville, I believe you live with your grandmother?” Lupin asked thoughtfully.

“Yes. But I don’t want the Boggart to turn into her either,” Neville said nervously.

“You misunderstand me,” Lupin said. Then, he asked Neville to describe his grandmother’s clothes.

“Now, when that Boggart comes out here, I want you to try your hardest to picture your grandmother’s clothes. You will raise your wand, say ‘Riddikulus’, and if all goes well, Professor Boggart Snape will be forced into that vulture-topped hat, and that green dress, with that big red handbag.”

The class laughed and the wardrobe shook again.

“This school is great,” Y/N said in amusement, and Harry nodded with a grin.

The class moved to the back of the room to give Neville space as Lupin prepared to release the Boggart. Y/N noticed now that Harry was suddenly looking a bit unwell.

“You okay?” She asked, just as sparks emerged from Lupin’s wand and opened the wardrobe.

Watching with anticipation, Y/N saw Professor Snape come out of the closet.

Neville backed away and raised his wand, and squeaked: “R—riddikulus!”

All of a sudden, Snape was wearing the most hideous outfit Y/N had ever seen. A long, lace-trimmed dress, a hat topped with a vulture, and a large red handbag, just like Lupin had mentioned.

The class roared with laughter and the Boggart Snape looked around in confusion.

“I’d say that’s an improvement for him,” Y/N said with stifled giggles.

Harry laughed, a little bit less tense than he had been before.

Professor Lupin called Parvati forward next. With a crack, the Boggart transformed from Snape to a bandaged mummy. With a cry of the incantation, the mummy’s head rolled off and onto the ground. Y/N thought that only made it more horrifying, but the students around her seemed to find it amusing all the same.

Professor Lupin called Seamus forward. The mummy transformed with another crack into a woman with dark floor-length hair — a banshee, that let out a shrieking wail that made the hairs on Y/N’s neck stand up.

“Riddikulus!” Seamus shouted; the banshee clawed at her throat to find her voice was gone.

The Boggart started transforming into multiple fears. A rat, then a rattlesnake, and then a bloody eyeball rolling around on the ground.

“It’s confused!” Lupin shouted.

He called Leanne up next, who — with a reassuring pat on the back from Y/N — walked up to the front of the class with steely determination.

The Boggart shook and suddenly transformed into a pale, looming figure with sharp fangs — a vampire. Leanne lifted her wand, cried “Riddikulus!”, and the vampire grew exaggerated buckteeth.

“Excellent! Ron, you next,” Lupin said.

Leanne hopped back over to Y/N with a grin.

Several people squealed at Ron’s Boggart, including Ernie and Justin, much to Y/N and Leanne’s amusement.

A giant spider covered in hair stood at least six feet tall, clicking its pincers at Ron.

“Riddikulus!” Ron bellowed.

The spider’s legs vanished and it rolled around on the floor. A Gryffindor girl dodged it and it ended up in front of Harry and Y/N. They each grabbed their wands uncertainly, ready to face the Boggart in whatever form it should take—

“Here!” Lupin shouted suddenly, rushing towards the Boggart.

A silvery white orb appeared with a crack.

“Riddikulus!” Lupin said, almost lazily, like it took no effort at all.

The Boggart dropped to the floor, nothing but a mere cockroach now. Lupin called for Neville to finish it off, and this time Neville looked determined as he stepped forward. With one more marvellous appearance from Boggart Snape in his fancy clothes, and another roar of laughter from the students, the Boggart exploded into wisps of smoke.

The class broke into applause.

“Excellent, Neville,” said Lupin. “Well done, everyone. Five points to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff for every person to tackle the Boggart — ten for Neville because he did it twice...and five points each to Y/N and Harry.”

Y/N smiled with relief. She was halfway to correcting the points she’d lost in Potions within the same day.

“But I didn’t do anything,” said Harry, confused.

“You and Y/N correctly answered my questions at the beginning of the lesson,” Lupin explained.

The homework was set for the class — to read a chapter on Boggarts and write a summary — and the students were dismissed.

Most of the students were talking excitedly amongst themselves. Leanne was gushing to Ernie and Justin about what it had been like facing a Boggart.

The only quiet ones were Y/N and Harry.

Y/N was caught up wondering what her Boggart would appear as. She couldn’t think of a specific phobia or fear that she had that was bad enough for a Boggart to take form of it. Her fear of heights was bad, but it wasn’t her greatest fear. When she had been choosing her electives before the school year started, she made well sure not to sign herself up for flying classes. As cool as it sounded to ride a broom, there was _no way_ she was mounting one of those things.

But, as she searched in silence for an answer, she quickly realised what her greatest fear was. Her Aunt Dottie had raised her for as long as she could remember. Y/N was too young to remember her own parents’ passing, but she didn’t have much other family aside from Dottie. The only other prominent family member she had was her grandfather, but he passed away when Y/N was ten. Her parents had died before Y/N was old enough to remember them, and maybe it was precisely because of this that she feared losing loved ones to the point where it kept her awake at night. If she lost Dottie, she would lose everything. Her aunt, her caregiver, her best friend, her confidante. Losing the last of her family, Dottie, was her greatest fear.

“Did you see me take on that banshee?” said Seamus.

“And Snape in that hat!”

“And my mummy!”

“Nice job with that vampire, Leanne,” said Justin.

Y/N frowned upon hearing the other students chatter. Here she was, silently dreading the death of her only family member, and everyone else’s greatest fears were such things as spiders and mummies. She couldn’t fault her classmates, who was she to judge? But it felt an awful lot like Y/N, despite growing up isolated from witches and wizards her age, had been faced with fears far more real than those of her classmates.

She noticed now that Harry wasn’t speaking much either, and he was quite unresponsive to Ron and Hermione’s talking. They didn’t even seem to notice that Harry was staring at the ground as he walked.

“Harry? You good?” Y/N asked quietly for the second time that afternoon.

Harry looked up and softened his gaze, nodding thankfully. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m alright.”

Without the need to verbally communicate their specific thoughts to each other, the two teenagers understood, on some level, how the other felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, everybody! Feedback is always appreciated, whether it’s constructive criticism or just a short comment, it lets me know what people think and helps me when I’m editing/writing future chapters.  
> 💛🖤


	5. iv. Tea Leaves & Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY: The castle wakes to startling news. Y/N receives an interesting prediction from Professor Trelawney.
> 
> WORD COUNT: approx. 3.7k

**iv. TEA LEAVES & TIME**

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_10th of September, 1993._

For a morning so beautiful, the energy in the Great Hall was so tense that it felt like a slap in the face as soon as Y/N entered.

She had left the dormitory a little later than usual, the other girls already all gone, and walked in a blissfully rested daze all the way to breakfast. The frantic whispers and students gathering around in clusters were the last things she expected or wanted to see, but curiosity quickly built in her mind.

On her way to her usual spot at the Hufflepuff table, she slowed down by the Gryffindor table only for Ron to poke his head up and call her over to the gathering.

“Come look at this!” he said.

A few students moved and Y/N stood between Harry and Hermione, peering down at a newspaper on the table.

In big, bold letters, the words ‘SIRIUS BLACK SIGHTED’ were stamped across the front page. Directly below those words was a moving photograph, and an unsettling feeling washed over Y/N. A man with long, dark hair was holding a prison number. He had a mad look in his eyes as he struggled against his restraints and yelled mutely at his captors.

“He was spotted in Dufftown!” said Hermione.

“You don’t think he’d come to Hogwarts, right?” Neville asked nervously.

“They’ve got dementors everywhere, of course not,” said Ron.

“Well...he did get past them once already when he escaped from Azkaban,” Y/N said with unease.

Y/N continued to stare down at the photograph, willing herself to believe that Hogwarts was an impenetrable fortress. After all, would her aunt have sent her there if she wasn’t sure it was safe? No, she wouldn’t have. She noticed that Harry looked rather pale himself, but she chose not to mention it in front of everyone else at the table. Perhaps she would check in with him later.

Trying to eat breakfast was more difficult after that and her appetite had almost completely disappeared. Leanne seemed to notice Y/N’s not-so-sunny disposition and went out of her way to try and bring her mood up again. Because of Leanne’s successful attempt at engaging Y/N in conversation, Y/N didn’t notice when someone sat on the other side of her until Leanne went bug-eyed looking at something behind her.

Y/N turned around to see Cedric Diggory sitting to her left. He was looking down at the table but looked up at Y/N as she turned, greeting her with a smile. A smile that was almost a little timid — but Y/N was sure that she had just imagined it.

“Good morning,” he said, clearing his throat.

“Good morning,” Y/N echoed, suddenly shy herself. Even sitting down, Cedric sat noticeably taller than her. It was oddly comforting, but she supposed that the guy just radiated good vibes. It made sense that he was a popular student.

After a few moments of silence, Cedric spoke up again.

“We’re going to have tryouts for the Hufflepuff Quidditch team this coming Sunday,” he said, sitting straighter as if to regain his confidence.

“Oh,” Y/N said, looking over to try and show interest.

Cedric nodded — a little bit awkwardly — and continued, “Do you play any Quidditch?”

“I’ve never had the chance to, actually. I don’t know if it’d really be my thing though, I’m not a fan of heights,” she laughed sheepishly.

“Oh, that’s alright, I was just — curious. Have you ever seen a match, then?” Cedric asked.

“No, but I’d like to. People here seem pretty invested in it,” said Y/N.

Cedric smiled and nodded, “Yeah. You should come along anyway. To the tryouts, I mean — if you want to.”

Y/N tried to keep her smile from growing too big and nodded, “Sure. Sunday, did you say?”

“Yes, that’s right. It’ll be starting around nine in the morning. And it’ll be on the Quidditch pitch — uh, obviously that’s where it’ll be, you already knew that...”

The tips of Cedric’s ears turned pink, and Y/N once again convinced herself that what she was witnessing was completely unrelated to her.

“So, the first Hogsmeade trip is tomorrow, and I was wondering if—“

“Merlin’s beard! Have you lot seen the Daily Prophet today?” Ernie said loudly as he and Justin lowered onto the seats across from Y/N, Leanne, and Cedric.

Leanne, who had been subtly eavesdropping on Y/N and Cedric’s conversation, groaned loudly at Ernie’s interruption at quite possibly the worst moment.

Y/N flinched in surprise and looked over at Ernie, who was clutching a copy of the Daily Prophet with Justin reading over his shoulder.

“Sorry, you were going to say something?” Y/N said to Cedric.

Cedric opened his mouth to speak but was yet again cut off by another student. Down the table, a few fifth years were calling him over.

Leanne looked about as irritated as Y/N felt on the inside.

Cedric smiled apologetically, “Sorry, I should probably...”

“Yeah, of course, that’s fine. I’ll be there on Sunday,” Y/N said quickly.

Cedric gave one accomplished nod and stood from the bench, walking away and giving Y/N a wave goodbye before finally turning the other way. Y/N only now noticed that there was no breakfast set out where Cedric had been just moments ago. Had he really only come over there to talk to her?

“I’m going to kill you so hard, Ernest Macmillan,” Leanne said, clutching her fork.

Ernie almost dropped the newspaper, “What? Why? What did I do?”

“You ruined their moment!” Leanne said in exasperation.

“What moment? What are you on about?” Ernie crossed his arms.

“Bloody men are so clueless,” Leanne muttered, piercing a piece of bacon with her fork with more force than necessary.

Ernie sighed and shook his head dismissively, “I’m not even going to try to figure this one out. Anyway, have you seen this?”

Ernie turned the Prophet around and showed them the cover. Y/N looked at it briefly before refocusing on her food.

“Yeah, I saw it when I came in. How far is Dufftown?” Y/N asked.

Justin shrugged, “Not sure exactly, but it’s not very far.”

“Walking distance?” Leanne asked nervously.

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Not sure what Black would be wanting with school children, especially when the school’s guarded by dementors,” Justin said.

Ernie lowered his voice, “But it is a bit strange though, don’t you think? He’s escaped Azkaban and now he’s suddenly popped up near Hogwarts.”

“Stop trying to be mysterious and just come out with it, Ernie,” Y/N said impatiently. The subject of Sirius Black made her anxious.

“Well, think about it. Black was one of You-Know-Who’s most loyal followers. The person who’s responsible for You-Know-Who’s downfall goes to school with us. If Black’s showing up around the area, I’d say it wouldn’t be too surprising if he’s trying to get to Hogwarts...trying to get to Potter. And he’s already given the dementors the slip once, which means he knows some way of getting past them.”

Y/N visibly paled at the thought. She had initially refused to connect the dots herself. Having someone spell it out in such a way made it that much worse. Leanne noticed Y/N’s worry and threw a piece of toast at Ernie across the table.

“Did you have to say that so ominously?”

Justin, looking a bit faint himself, tried to be reassuring. “We’ve got Dumbledore, though. And McGonagall, Flitwick, Lupin — a whole staff of capable witches and wizards. The dementors aren’t the only things guarding Hogwarts.”

Justin’s words did in fact help — but only a little.

Y/N’s first class of the day, Muggle Studies, passed by like a gust of wind and then she was walking to Divination with Leanne. Divination was a bit of an odd class, with an even odder professor, but Y/N thought it was interesting nonetheless. She knew that in the Muggle world, things like psychics and the talent of predicting the future were widely believed to be nothing more than a deadly combination of wishful thinking, guided questioning, and clever trickery. But Y/N supposed that if it was a subject being taught to students at Hogwarts, there must be at least a smidgeon of truth to it somewhere.

Y/N and Leanne sat at a small round table across from each other and Professor Trelawney waited for everybody to be seated.

“Today we will finally be practising the art of reading tea leaves,” she said airily. “Collect a teacup from the shelf, come to me, and I will fill it. Then sit down and drink until only the dregs remain. Swill these around the cup three times with the left hand, then turn the cup upside down on its saucer, wait for the last of the tea to drain away, then give your cup to your partner to read. You will interpret the patterns using pages five and six of Unfogging the Future. I shall move among you, helping and instructing.”

The students set about following her instructions in relative silence. Even if the class was malarkey, at least Y/N got to sit in a warm room and drink tea.

After drinking almost all of her tea, swilling it, and gently placing the cup upside down on her saucer, Y/N pushed her cup over to Leanne as Leanne did the same. Y/N looked inside at the wet black tea leaves clinging to the bottom and sides of the cup. She started looking through the pages of her book to find anything that resembled what she was seeing in the cup.

Professor Trelawney swept around the room, occasionally telling students to “broaden their minds” or “look past the mundane”. Trying to suspend her disbelief for the sake of the class, Y/N tried to do just that — though she felt a bit silly, like she was trying to do something she just wasn’t capable of doing.

“Umm...well I guess this little bit here sort of looks like a star, so I think that means you’ll have good luck with something?” Y/N said unsurely.

“Let’s hope so. Merlin knows I need all the help I can get with Potions class,” Leanne said with a laugh.

Leanne continued to look between Y/N’s cup and the book. “It mostly looks like blobs to me...although this _could_ be an acorn? I don’t know.”

Professor Trelawney appeared out of nowhere, gesturing for Leanne to pass her the cup. The professor scrutinised the cup for a moment before smiling knowingly at Y/N.

“You have a great romance on the horizon,” she said.

Leanne raised her eyebrows at Y/N, who only shrugged. Professor Trelawney looked back into the cup, then to Y/N, and back and forth a few more times before a grim expression took over her face.

“I also see a great deal of pain and darkness in your future. Be wary, my dear,” Professor Trelawney said, patting Y/N on the hand.

The professor put the cup back down in front of Leanne and swiftly left.

“A great romance, ey?” Leanne said coyly.

“I’m more focused on the ‘pain and darkness’ bit...” Y/N said.

“Oh, she says that to everyone. Besides, what teenager _doesn’t_ have painful times?” Leanne said reassuringly.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right.”

“Yeah, yeah, back to the first thing. Any idea who this so-called great romance will be with?” Leanne asked, feigning ignorance.

“No, but it’s like you said, it probably means nothing,” said Y/N, though she felt her cheeks warm a little when a certain 5th year student popped into her head.

Leanne leaned over and whispered, “I think I’ve got an idea.”

“Don’t say—“

“Cedric!” She whispered loudly, almost catching the attention of other students.

“Shh!” Y/N hushed.

“Oh, you shush. Y/N, the tension between you and Diggory is _palpable_ and you’ve only been here, what, just over a week?” Leanne said.

“It’s not ‘palpable’, Leanne.”

“Trust me, it is. He approached _you_ to ask you to come to Quidditch tryouts even though you said you weren’t going to try for the team. And he was obviously about to ask you out before goddamn Ernie Macmillan ruined it.”

“He — what? No, I don’t think he was—“

Leanne rolled her eyes dramatically. “Yes, he was. Why else would he bring up the Hogsmeade weekend? Heaps of students go on dates on the Hogsmeade weekends.”

Y/N took a moment to let the information sink in.

“You really think he was going to ask me on a date?” Y/N asked quietly, chest fluttering.

“Yes,” Leanne said. Then, she grinned and poked Y/N on the arm. “He knows a good lass when he sees one.”

Y/N swatted Leanne’s hand away with a laugh.

“I’m serious! I bet you have tonnes of admirers back home,” Leanne said.

Y/N smiled oddly with furrowed brows and shook her head, “No, not really. Nobody’s ever asked me out before, actually.”

“Really? It must be the homeschool thing, right?”

Y/N shrugged, “I guess so. I don’t know that many people my age back home.”

“So it must feel strange,” Leanne said as she looked lazily through the book.

“What must feel strange?” Y/N asked.

“Well, you know, the attention you get,” Leanne said simply.

“What do you mean?” Y/N asked.

“Guys checking you out?”

Y/N almost choked on the air, cheeks turning pink. “What are you on about?”

“Oh, lovie, you can’t be that oblivious. Surely you’ve noticed how a lot of the boys at this school look at you?” Leanne spoke as if she were explaining a simple concept.

Realisation hit Y/N. The ‘curious’ stares she got sometimes when she walked through crowded halls. She shook her head and laughed, “Oh, no, that’s just because I’m new.”

Leanne leaned on her palm and stared at Y/N patiently, “Yeah...no. For the first few days? Sure. But now it’s definitely just the boys admiring you from afar.”

Y/N was still adamant that Leanne had it all wrong, because there was no way that she was capable of attracting that sort of attention from people.

“I really think you’re reading too much into it,” Y/N said, trying to refocus on reading the tea leaves.

“You’re a total cutie, Y/N, deal with it.”

Y/N fiddled shyly with the edges of the book and smiled. “Thanks, Leanne. You’re a total cutie, too.”

Leanne grinned, “Thank you, milady.”

━━━━━━━━━ ⌁ ϟ ⌁ ━━━━━━━━━

After a hectic morning of sighted criminals, dashing fifth years, and being told she was cute for the first time by somebody who wasn’t her aunt, some fresh air and a couple of fire-dwelling salamanders were exactly what Y/N needed.

Hagrid was rather exited to show the class the next creature they would be studying. A large bonfire with said salamanders crawling around on the logs stood on the grounds, and the Hufflepuffs went about collecting leaves, sticks, and other dry wood to keep the fire going. The salamanders were actually kind of cute, and the warm fire felt nice from a bit of a distance.

The rest of the class went by with even more hushed talk about Sirius Black’s sighting, so during lunch before the last class of the day, Y/N decided to wander the castle on her own to get away from all of the nervous energy.

She ended up in the courtyard below the Clocktower, and curiosity compelled her to venture inside said tower. On the inside, she glanced up at the large, swinging pendulum as she walked past. After searching for a minute, she found a narrow staircase that led her up towards a small isolated landing. It was almost like a closed-off room of its own, with a large clock face and dusty windows. The floorboards were slightly squeaky as Y/N approached a window, peering out of it.

She sat on the ground near the window. Nobody would find her here if they weren’t actively looking — even then, it would take a while. She felt an odd sort of peace at that. It reminded her of her bench at the duck pond back home. Y/N enjoyed Hogwarts so far, she’d already made friends that she liked. But all of it — the changes, the new environments, new people, a new way of learning, less freedom to do things in her own way, no surprise visits from Ruby and Olive, no dinner time discussions with Dottie — it was overwhelming.

Occasionally, the voices of students would carry through the air nearby as they passed through on their way to or from lunch, but nobody ever realised that Y/N was up in the Clocktower. Nobody except those twins.

Fred and George clambered up the steps onto the room-like platform, quickly tucking away a piece of parchment, which Y/N didn’t pay much mind to.

“Hello,” they said.

“Hi,” Y/N said, turning around slightly.

“Nice place you’ve got here,” one of them said.

“Thanks, Fred,” Y/N said.

The twins blinked in surprise, exchanging a look.

“You can tell us apart?” George asked.

Y/N nodded shyly, “Yeah — well — your, uh, mouths are a bit different. Your hair falls differently, too.”

The twins quickly crossed the distance of the Clocktower and plunked themselves down into sitting positions on either side of Y/N.

“And what’re you doing looking at our mouths, missy?” Fred asked.

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully.

“Fifteen years and our mum still mixes us up. One week and this one’s got us clocked — pun intended,” George said, gesturing to the large clock face in front of them.

“What’s your secret?” Fred asked.

“I have a pair of twin friends back at home. It took me forever to find small differences to be able to tell them apart, but I guess it was good practise,” Y/N shrugged.

“Would these be the twelve-year-old girls we remind you of?” George asked.

Y/N nodded with a wistful smile. “What’re you guys going up here anyway?” She asked, not unkindly.

“Just...”

“—Exploring.”

“Big place, Hogwarts,” George finished.

“What about you?” Fred asked.

Y/N decided not to say that she was looking for somewhere quiet — she didn’t want the twins to think their presence was unwelcome.

“Same as you. Still trying to memorise the castle,” said Y/N.

“Well, it’s a good spot you’ve found here. Not many people come up here,” George said.

“Are you going to Hogsmeade tomorrow?” Fred asked.

“Yeah. Not sure what to expect though, what exactly is it?” Y/N asked.

“It’s an all-wizarding village. It’s got shops and pubs — that sort of thing. If it tickles your fancy, you should try out Zonko’s Joke Shop,” Fred said.

“Our heaven on Earth,” George said with an exaggerated dreamy expression.

The clock suddenly chimed loudly, even louder than Y/N had heard it before now that she was inside the Clocktower. All three of them jumped slightly, laughing at each other’s reactions.

“Ladies first,” George said, gesturing down the staircase.

“Oh, of course — my apologies, ma’am,” Y/N said, stepping aside for Fred to walk down first.

George snorted loudly and Fred chuckled.

“Thank you, sir,” Fred said in a high-pitched voice, carrying an imaginary handbag as he walked down the narrow wooden steps.

When Y/N spotted a wave of yellow and black, she rejoined the Hufflepuffs and found Leanne, Ernie, and Justin. The four of them had become a group; always walking to classes together, partnering up, sitting together at meals. Y/N had been worried that she wouldn’t make any friends at all at Hogwarts, but it wasn’t as hard as she thought it’d be. She had her own little group of friends in Hufflepuff, her trio of friends in Gryffindor — possibly the twins now, too — and Cedric was...an acquaintance? A friendly face? Less? More?

Professor Flitwick ushered them into the class and got them started on finishing up practise with the Cheering Charm so they could move onto the next spell.

The class passed by quite normally. Y/N had improved on her technique; instead of overdoing the spell and sending the target into a fit of hysterical laughs like last time, she only slightly botched it. Flitwick noticed her improvement and praised her for it, telling her that her aunt had been particularly skilled at Charms when she was at school.

That night, it took longer for Y/N to fall asleep than usual. Already, the year felt like it was more eventful than a typical school year. Perhaps it was just because she was still in the adjustment period of going from homeschooling to Hogwarts.

Y/N dreamt often, though she didn’t always remember her dreams when she woke. This one, though, _this one_ she would remember vividly.

It started slowly. In her dulled state, she could only make out vague impressions of her environment. Warmth all around her. Beneath her, itchy but soft fabric — like carpet.

_Was she on the floor?_ Yes, she was sitting on the floor.

With the orange glow and all-encompassing warmth radiating from behind her, she could infer that she was sitting near a fireplace.

A laugh like a bell rang out clearly, and the fogginess of her dream lifted only slightly.

A face — a familiar face.

Her Aunt Dottie.

But she was younger. She still had a perm like in the photos she had shown Y/N. Was this a memory? A distant memory of Y/N’s early childhood that had been hidden away deep in her subconscious for years?

Another figure was next to her. A man. Her grandfather, Barnabas. He still had that crazy moustache that reached past his chin, his combed hair, and round glasses with the purple-tinted lenses. But he was younger, too.

Another laugh cut through the fog. Similar to Dottie’s, but still entirely its own. Y/N had never heard it before but it was so _familiar_.

In the dream, Y/N looked up from her spot on the floor. She felt physically small, smaller than she could ever remember being. The third figure appeared behind her aunt, one who bore a close resemblance to Dottie.

It was a woman. H/C hair. E/C eyes. Cheeks flushed pink and her eyes bright with mirth.

In her sleep, one word rang through Y/N’s mind:

’ _Mum_.’


	6. v. Hogsmeade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SUMMARY: The students enjoy their first Hogsmeade visit of the year, but Y/N can’t stop thinking about her unusually vivid dream.  
> WORD COUNT: approx. 5k

**v. HOGSMEADE**

**━━━━━━━━━ ⌁ ϟ ⌁ ━━━━━━━━━**

  
  


_ 11th of September, 1993. _

The dormitory was buzzing with excitement when Y/N woke up. Tired as she was from the week, her dorm mates would not allow her to fall back asleep. Leanne was an annoyingly early riser, even on weekends.

“Get up, Locke!” Leanne said, thumping Y/N’s hip with her pillow.

“Why?” Y/N muttered quietly, nestling under the thick covers more. _Damn those beds for being so comfortable._

“It’s the first Hogsmeade visit!” Susan called through a mouthful of toothpaste.

For the third years, it truly was their very first visit to Hogsmeade Village; Y/N, at least, would not be the only person there who had never been before.

Y/N slowly started to rise but Leanne pulled the covers off of her in a hurry.

“I was getting there—“

“—and I sped things along, now step lively and get ready for some fun!” Leanne clapped her hands.

“Sir, yes, sir!” Y/N called groggily, saluting Leanne with her bed head in all its glory.

Y/N pulled out some clothes and changed in the bathroom, walking past a frustrated Hannah trying to wake Megan, who slept like the dead.

Eventually, all five girls hurried out of the dorm and down the stairs into the common room where some Hufflepuffs were milling about in their weekend clothes, waiting for their friends to join them on the way to breakfast with the rest of the house.

Leanne and Y/N parted from the other girls and approached Justin, who was rather impatiently waiting on one of the overstuffed couches.

“Morning, Justin,” Leanne waved.

“Morning Leanne, Y/N,” Justin greeted. “We’re just waiting for Ernie now.”

A minute or so later, Ernie came down the stairs at a leisurely pace, pulling a navy sweater over his blonde hair.

“Finally!” Justin threw up his arms and stood.

“I didn’t take _that_ long,” he scoffed.

“This is you—“ Justin started theatrically imitating Ernie’s morning routine, with emphasis on how slow-moving it was. “And now I’ll just comb my hair, but I _must_ do it precisely, which means as slowly as possible.”

Y/N and Leanne laughed at Justin’s little show, and Ernie crossed his arms in an effort to look like somebody who ought to be taken seriously.

“Well, Justin, you’re not much different. And I happen to always be on time for things. I’m not late, nor am I early—“

“Gandalf,” Y/N whispered, and Justin smirked. Ernie continued without pausing as if they had never interrupted.

“—I’m always where I’m needed, when I’m needed. We have no reason to rush this morning, breakfast has only just started!” Ernie finished.

“Alright, let’s just go already,” Leanne said, amused. She herded the other three out of the common room.

“Honestly, every time there’s been a Hogsmeade weekend, the older years have lost their heads. Now us, too! Where’s the sense in that?” said Ernie as he exited the barrel entrance.

“It’s excitement, my friend. Aren’t you excited to relax a little? Have some fun?” Leanne asked, nudging Ernie.

“Sure. I like fun. I’m a fun person,” Ernie said.

“Said no fun person ever,” Y/N said.

Leanne and Justin laughed and Ernie huffed, looking very pointedly at Y/N.

“Cheeky,” he said, frowning.

“Awe, I’m sorry, I’m only messing with you,” Y/N said, nudging him. Ernie finally cracked a smile.

All throughout breakfast, everybody was talking about what they wanted to do or where they wanted to go first at Hogsmeade.

“What’s the Shrieking Shack?” Y/N asked.

“The older students say it’s this abandoned house. Used to tell us stories to spook us when we were first years,” Leanne said.

“I’ve heard it’s haunted. The most haunted building in Britain,” Ernie said lowly.

“Pfft. I doubt it,” Justin said. The Muggle-born in him was naturally skeptical any time someone claimed that something was ‘haunted’.

“Apparently, the villagers used to say they heard screams coming from there. That’s why it’s called the _Shrieking_ Shack,” said Ernie.

“Has anyone ever actually been inside it to look?” Y/N asked curiously.

“Nobody that I know. They say not even the Hogwarts ghosts will go there. Whatever’s haunting it — well — it can’t be that friendly, now can it?” Ernie said.

“I guess we won’t be stopping to check it out, then,” Leanne said in a chipper voice.

“Agreed,” Justin nodded.

Curiosity still itched in Y/N’s mind, though. Her friends looked like they had decided to avoid it altogether, but Y/N desperately wanted to know if it really was haunted — and if it was, by what?

**━━━━━━━━━ ⌁ ϟ ⌁ ━━━━━━━━━**

The students gathered in the courtyard, handing their signed permission slips to their heads of houses. Professor Sprout, rugged up in a coat on account of the nippy autumn air, dutifully checked for signatures with a merry smile on her face.

“Alright, Hufflepuff, please make your way out of the castle and down the hill in an orderly fashion! And remember to be on your best behaviour while visiting Hogsmeade. Any mucking about, and you’ll be sent right back up to the castle,” Sprout called out in a loud voice.

The Hufflepuffs began making their way down to the village. Y/N made a conscious effort not to look in the direction of the dementors guarding different areas of the castle. The Ravenclaws had left a few minutes before them and were already spotted walking down the hill further ahead.

On the way to the village, Leanne asked a few of the older students for directions to a place called the Three Broomsticks, and Ernie and Justin talked about wanting to take a look in Honeydukes. Y/N started to slip off into a daydream. She thought back to the dream she’d had the night before.

She had seen her mother’s face. Not just in a photograph. Not just the imaginary face she’d built up in her head from Dottie’s stories. No — her real face. Alive, talking, laughing, looking right at Y/N with as much love as a person could possibly feel.

Y/N thought she had no memories of her own of her mother. She thought she couldn’t remember what her smile looked like, what her laugh sounded like. But it turned out it had been locked away in her mind all this time, waiting to be found in her dreams.

Or was it just that? A dream? A fantasy that she’d conjured up in her mind to make up for the absence of her mother in her life? But it couldn’t have been just a dream, Y/N thought. Dreams did not feel like that. Dreams were unreal, imaginary, bizarre, fantastical. This had felt _real_. It was not a dream. It was a memory.

And her grandfather had been there too. Grandpa Barney, who she’d missed so dearly since his passing. Her family had always been very small — after her parents’ deaths when she was still a baby, it was just her, Dottie, and her grandfather. Barnabas Locke was just as much of an oddball as Aunt Dottie, and he had also been the kindest person Y/N had ever known. A Ravenclaw, too, just like her mother, aunt, and so many of the other Lockes Y/N had known only in stories of the past.

The memory of his death was still vivid in her mind. It had only been around three years since he died but it stuck with her like a fresh wound unable to ever fully close itself up. It was the reason she could see the thestrals, after all.

He’d been ill. The illness had come on strongly and suddenly, and Y/N rarely left her grandfather’s bedside. He hadn’t really been himself in those last few days, either. He seemed distant. He was lost even before he was gone and Dorothea, as much as she tried to scour through every book she could find for some sort of spell or potion that would save her father, could do nothing but hopelessly wait for the inevitable end that everyone would one day meet.

“What about you, Y/N?” Leanne asked.

Y/N flinched and looked back at her friends, who were watching her expectantly.

“Huh?” Y/N asked.

“She asked what you’re most looking forward to,” Justin answered.

“Oh...” Y/N paused, trying to think of any of the names of shops she had heard. Truthfully, Hogsmeade had not been on her mind that morning as much as the dream had been. “I guess — maybe — it would be kind of interesting to look at the Shrieking Shack.”

Ernie quickly put his hands up. “Okay, but just know I’m not stepping anywhere near it.”

“I don’t much fancy the idea of being possessed,” Justin shivered.

Y/N chuckled, thinking of the Muggle ghost movies she’d watched with her aunt, who loved a good horror film. Perhaps Y/N had been desensitised to ghostly things from a young age.

“Sissies,” Leanne joked, poking her tongue out at them.

“It’s the sissies who survive, you know,” Ernie said, surprising his friends by being completely unoffended by Leanne’s ribbing.

“I guess that’s true,” Y/N shrugged.

“So I suppose they’re all going to die young,” Justin said, turning around and pointing at the Gryffindors, who were travelling down the hill a short ways behind them.

The Gryffindors, in their hurry to get to Hogsmeade and having left not long after the Hufflepuffs, quickly passed by. Y/N could briefly make out a few people amongst the group — she saw Hermione’s bushy hair, and four heads of flaming red locks that couldn’t be missed even from a mile away.

Some of the Gryffindors waved at the Hufflepuffs, others just continued walking, and the louder ones cheered and hollered as if they’d just been released from a prison.

“Bloody Gryffin—“

Right as Ernie said this, a rogue Gryffindor accidentally knocked into him roughly.

“Sorry, mate!” the kid called out as he quickly ran off to join his friends.

“—dors,” Ernie finished with a frown.

Leanne sighed and faced Y/N, “We’re sort of the ‘uncool’ house, you see.”

“Uncool?” Y/N asked. “That’s the first I’m hearing of it.”

Leanne adjusted her bag on her shoulder. “We get on well with the Gryffindors, Katie Bell’s one of my best friends. But not all of us are necessarily as _bold_ as some of the Gryffindors, or as ruthlessly ambitious as Slytherins. There are exceptions, but there’s a bit of a stigma. We just aren’t usually ones to go around talking about our achievements, so people think we don’t have any.”

Then, Leanne smirked and faced Ernie, “‘cept for our dear Ernie. Always happy when he does well.”

“If I work hard to do well in school, why shouldn’t I be proud of it?” Ernie said offhandedly, but continued on with the discussion: “I don’t think the other houses always understand the value of our ethos.”

“We’re just the ‘nice house’ to them. It’s a bit of a backhanded compliment, really. They don’t always take us seriously as competitors for things like Quidditch or exams,” Justin said.

Y/N’s face screwed up into a surprised grimace. “Well, I think we’re pretty cool...”

“You’re damn right we are,” said Leanne.

“We’ve got him,” Ernie said, pointing over at where some of the older students were gathered.

Y/N saw that he was pointing at Cedric, who was laughing with his friends jovially. Leanne smirked at Y/N from the corner of her eye, which Y/N completely pretended to miss. Neither Ernie or Justin seemed to notice.

“Speaking of Quidditch, I have a feeling it’ll be a good year for our team,” Justin said confidently.

“Don’t jinx it,” Leanne said quickly.

“We’ve got a new captain this year. Let’s hope Diggory comes through,” said Ernie.

The large group dispersed once they had finally reached Hogsmeade.

“I’m going to go find Katie,” said Leanne. She started to walk away before turning to Y/N. “Did you want to come?”

Y/N didn’t want to intrude on her time with her other friends, so she shook her head. “No, that’s okay, I’ll just stick with these guys.”

Y/N quickly found herself walking through Hogsmeade flanked by Ernie and Justin, who were both discussing where the three of them should go next. Hogsmeade Village sure was a sight to see and Y/N felt a flutter in her chest as she realised that the winding cobbled streets, filled with buildings made of aged timber and stone, reminded her faintly of home. Autumn was always one of the most beautiful times of year back home. She would have to ask Dottie to send pictures of the duck pond.

The three students hurried into Honeydukes and Y/N was taken aback by the sheer amount of colour and sweets the store had. It was any adolescent’s dream to be let loose in a place like that.

“I don’t have much of a sweet tooth, but I am partial to a Chocolate Frog,” said Ernie.

Y/N almost made a noise of disgust when she remembered that a Chocolate Frog was indeed just chocolate. Aunt Dottie would grab little sweets here and there if she ever travelled to Diagon Alley, and Y/N most vividly remembered the sometimes-horrible-tasting jellybeans. A smirk played at her lips as an idea popped into her head for Dottie’s upcoming birthday.

“Do you think they have those godawful bean things here?” she asked.

“Bertie Bott’s? They’re probably around here somewhere...look — just over by that wall,” Justin said, pointing at a wall almost entirely covered in Bertie Bott’s boxes. It was hard to miss.

“Dang, I need glasses. Thanks, Justin,” Y/N hopped over to the Bertie Bott’s, reaching to grab two of the boxes from the top.

As she struggled to reach the top of the enormous pile, an arm came out of nowhere and grabbed them down for her.

“Thanks,” she said, taking the two boxes from her helper.

“No problem,” they said.

Y/N looked up to see Cedric Diggory. _This boy just keeps showing up everywhere._

“Oh — hello,” Y/N smiled.

“Hi,” he said, shoving his hands in his pockets. He nodded at the Bertie Bott’s, “You’re a fan?”

Y/N’s cheeks felt warm. “Uh, not particularly — bit too much of a gamble on my taste buds.”

“I’d have to agree with you there,” said Cedric.

“It’s my aunt’s birthday soon. I’m going to try and pick out all the gross ones and put them in one box,” said Y/N.

“That’s sweet of you.”

“Oh, no, the gross ones are the gift — a whole box full of them. She’ll try a few, think she’s just got bad luck, and keep trying to find a nice one. I wonder how many beans she’ll go through before she realises they’re _all_ bad,” Y/N explained.

Cedric laughed in surprise and shook his head. Y/N suddenly felt shy — maybe she shouldn’t have mentioned the prank gift.

“I didn’t take you for an evil genius, Miss Locke,” Cedric said, eyes glinting.

“Well, you know...I have my moments,” Y/N shrugged. “My aunt’s pretty cool. She’ll probably try and get me back for it in some way.”

Dorothea Locke was many things: intelligent, rational, calm, collected, protective, fierce. But she could also be an epic prankster.

Ernie suddenly appeared from around the corner holding out a red lollipop. “Y/N, check this out, it’s _blood_ flavoured—“

He stopped abruptly when he saw Cedric Diggory talking to Y/N.

“Hi, Cedric,” said Ernie.

“Ernie,” Cedric greeted politely.

“Good luck with tryouts tomorrow,” said Ernie.

“Thanks,” said Cedric, hands still in pockets.

“Did you just say that was blood flavoured?” Y/N asked, pointing at the lollipop.

“Yes,” Ernie nodded, holding it out.

Y/N took it, inspecting it for a moment before trying to smell it through the wrapping.

“I don’t think it has much of a smell—“ Ernie started.

“Exactly. It’s perfect,” the wicked smile returned to Y/N’s face. “A little label change and it’ll be a great gift.”

Cedric chuckled fondly looking at Y/N, “Diabolical.”

“Thank you,” Y/N bowed her head.

“Do I need to be worried?” Ernie asked.

“No, it’s for my aunt, you’re safe,” Y/N said.

Outside the window of the store, Y/N saw Hermione and Ron pass by.

“Excuse me, I’ll meet back up with you guys later,” she said to Ernie. “It was nice talking to you again, Cedric,” she said, trying to speak in a casual tone of voice.

“Yeah, it was. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Cedric said with a smile.

Y/N started to walk off before abruptly stopping and rushing back past Ernie and Cedric in the other direction with pink cheeks, “I should probably pay for these first...”

After paying for the sweets, Y/N shoved them in her messenger bag and rushed out of Honeydukes, almost knocking over a display in the process but saving it from destruction at the last minute with a flurry of apologies to nobody in particular.

She had to run a bit to catch up with Ron and Hermione, but they greeted her happily when she did.

“Hey, Y/N,” Hermione said.

“Hi, guys,” she said, looking around for the third member of their trio. It was odd seeing them not together.

“He didn’t have his permission note signed,” Ron said sadly.

“Oh,” Y/N frowned. She felt bad that everybody was at Hogsmeade while Harry stayed behind on his own. According to some of the other kids, the castles were practically empty during Hogsmeade visits.

“I can’t say I’m too surprised. His aunt and uncle don’t sound like the most permissive types,” Hermione said.

Y/N was starting to dislike these Dursleys more and more every time they were mentioned.

“Where are your friends?” Hermione asked.

“Wow...are we not friends?” Y/N said dejectedly, hanging her head low.

Hermione gasped. “No! That’s not what I meant—“

Hermione stopped and sighed deeply when Y/N looked up with a smirk on her face.

“You really need to stop doing that to me,” Hermione said as Ron started laughing.

“No, please don’t stop,” said Ron, throughly amused.

“I’m not third-wheeling am I?” Y/N asked, remembering what Leanne had said about Hogsmeade being a popular location for dates.

The two of them immediately became red. They refused to look at each other, quickly saying, “No!”

“Just checking...” Y/N said, hiding her smile.

They wound up going through all sorts of shops. The post office was filled with owls, and they spent a total of about five seconds in Madam Puddifoot’s Tea Shop before hightailing out of the saccharinely romantic setting. Y/N crossed paths with Ernie and Justin a few times, as well as Leanne and her friend Katie. She didn’t run into Cedric again, though she kept on seeing him from afar. It was like her eyes and ears were just drawn to him like a magnet, though she supposed he _was_ rather...well, magnetic. But she knew she wasn’t the only person to find him attractive. To him, she was just one of many of the same. A face in the crowd.

It was no surprise that they ran into Fred and George at Zonko’s. Ron was looking around for something to get Harry — which Y/N thought was the sweetest thing she’d seen all day — when the twins showed up carrying a small box each labelled as Dungbombs.

“Are those what they sound like?” Y/N asked.

“Precisely what they sound like,” said Fred, gently patting the box.

“Very useful for clearing a room,” said George.

Ron snickered.

“And for putting in your little brother’s room,” said Fred, only smiling sweetly at Ron as he scowled at the two of them.

Ron eventually decided to get Harry something called a Pocket Sneakoscope. The twins seemed more than delighted by Y/N’s plans for her aunt’s birthday gift and parted ways shortly after.

“Can’t hurt to have it, right? Especially with all this Sirius Black stuff,” Ron said, looking at the Sneakoscope like he wished he had been able to get something better.

“Yeah, that’s true. I think it’s a great gift,” said Y/N.

Ron smiled and put it away inside his pocket after that.

Suddenly, they were approached by a small group of students who Y/N hadn’t met yet.

“Malfoy,” Ron muttered.

“ _That’s_ Malfoy?” Y/N said. She had seen him around, but due to not having any classes with the Slytherins, she never realised that this boy and the Draco Malfoy that Harry hated so much were one and the same. The way Harry, Ron, and Hermione talked about Draco, she was expecting someone...more intimidating.

Malfoy tutted as he approached them. He looked to Y/N, “You’re the new girl, right?”

Y/N opened her mouth to answer but Draco kept talking.

“Connections are everything. You don’t want to be seen hanging around _this_ lot,” he nodded his head at Ron and Hermione with a sneer that looked like a permanent fixture on his face.

Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron glared daggers at Malfoy’s head.

Y/N frowned, feeling very put off by his comment. She could already feel her feisty side emerging from somewhere within.

“I don’t think I asked for your opinion on who I choose to spend my time with, and quite frankly it’s none of your business.”

Draco looked moderately affronted. “I suppose you’re a blood traitor, too—“

“I think you’re confused. I’m a Locke but I’m not a pureblood, I just took my mother’s surname. My father was a Muggle-born, which makes me a half-blood. If you’re going to call me names, at least be accurate.”

Y/N decided to simply start walking away, as if Malfoy wasn’t even there.

Ron and Hermione gawked at the scene and quickly left a stunned Malfoy and his lackeys, rushing to follow Y/N.

Ron’s eyes were wide like a child on Christmas morning. “That was...that was—“

“Brilliant!” Hermione cried, clapping a hand on Y/N’s arm.

Y/N felt quite shaken after the minor confrontation, much like how she’d felt after her first lesson with Snape. With a slightly shaky voice, she looked at Hermione: “Yeah? It was good?”

“Better than good,” said Ron. “I bet he wasn’t expecting you to brush him off like that.”

Y/N nodded and sighed, adrenaline still pumping. “Yeah, well, if there’s one thing I’ve learnt recently, it’s that jerks like that enjoy nothing more than getting a reaction out of someone. If you give them nothing, they just look stupid.”

“Where are we going?” Ron asked as he and Hermione continued to follow Y/N.

“I have no idea. My inner compass is wack. But if you _look_ like you know what you’re doing, people usually don’t have a reason to question it,” Y/N said.

“Well, I certainly thought you knew what you were doing,” Hermione said, panting to keep up with Y/N’s fast strides.

“See?”

━━━━━━━━━ ⌁ ϟ ⌁ ━━━━━━━━━

“What on Earth are you doing to those beans?”

Y/N looked up from the two open Bertie Bott’s boxes in front of her to see Leanne watching with her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. She was set up on one of the tables in the common room.

“I’m separating the good ones from the bad ones,” Y/N said.

“How can you tell?” Leanne asked.

Y/N had her wand out and was levitating each jellybean individually. It was a very meticulous and drawn-out process, but at least she was practising her magic while she was doing it.

“Mostly by smell,” Y/N said, smelling the jellybean and moving her wand to direct it into the ‘good’ box. “Some of them don’t really have a strong smell, though. That pile there is for the undecideds.”

A small pile of jellybeans sat on a napkin on the table.

“How can you smell it, though? I can never tell with these,” Leanne picked up one of the rejected jellybeans and tried to smell it.

“My aunt says I have a nose like a bloodhound. In terms of functionality, of course — not appearance,” said Y/N.

Leanne bit into the jellybean in her hand and gagged, “Ugh, _yuck_ , it’s coconut.”

Y/N looked up in confusion at her reaction.

“I don’t like coconut,” Leanne shrugged.

“Dare you to eat all of those at once,” Y/N said, pointing at the jellybeans on the napkin, of which there were about twelve.

“Ew...of course.”

Leanne collected the Bertie Bott’s in her hand and took a deep breath before tossing them back into her mouth and chewing. Y/N stopped her actions completely to witness it. Leanne chewed for a few moments with no visible reaction, and then she suddenly screwed her face up in a confused grimace. She pulled out a tissue and spat them out.

“I don’t even know how to describe that. It’s like...I could taste them all at the same time, but they also blended into one big mix of yuck. Soap mixed with cherry, grass and lemon, vomit and — ick — _coconut_ ,” Leanne shuddered.

Y/N giggled and went to return to her sorting only to realise that she was finished. She sealed up the boxes neatly and they looked as if they had never even been opened.

“How will you remember which is which?” Leanne asked.

“Left is bad, right is good,” Y/N said. She left the left box on the table, pocketing the right box. She stood from the table and returned her wand to her pocket.

“Where are you going?” Leanne asked.

“I need to give these to someone,” she said, patting the pocket of her jumper where the good Bertie Bott’s were.

“Alright. I’m going to head back up to the dorm and try and erase the memory of eating those Bertie Bott’s,” said Leanne.

“Oh, would you take these up with you? And make sure the other girls know not to eat them,” Y/N said, handing the other box to Leanne.

“Sure. I’d say the knowledge that they’re all rubbish is a pretty good deterrent.”

Y/N left the Hufflepuff common room, heading towards the Great Hall where some of the students were gathered around after the Hogsmeade trip. Looking up and down the Gryffindor table, she noticed that Harry was indeed there, with Ron and some other Gryffindors also at the table.

“Hey, Harry,” she said, hopping into the seat next to him.

“Hi, Y/N. Did you have a good time at Hogsmeade?” Harry asked.

He didn’t say it, nor did he give any real indication that he was jealous, but Y/N could tell that he was disappointed at missing out on something everybody else was allowed to do.

“It was alright. Here—“ she passed him the Bertie Bott’s.

“Oh! Thanks, Y/N, you didn’t have to do that,” Harry said, a smile stretching across his surprised expression.

Y/N waved a hand, “It’s alright. And they’re only the good flavours, by the way.”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed and he stared at the box. “Really?”

“Yeah, I sorted them out. My aunt is getting the nasty ones,” Y/N grinned.

Harry, not entirely sure how to respond but amused nonetheless, smiled gratefully at Y/N. His glasses slipped down his nose slightly and he pushed them back up.

“Thank you,” he said sincerely.

All of a sudden, a loud whistling sound could be heard.

“What’s that?” Y/N asked.

Harry reached into the pocket of his hoodie and pulled out the small round object that Y/N had seen Ron purchase earlier.

“Ron got it for me. It’s a Pocket Sneakoscope, it’s supposed to light up and make noise whenever somebody nearby is doing something untrustworthy,” said Harry, looking to Y/N.

Y/N raised her hands in defence, “It ain’t me.”

Harry laughed and said in a quiet voice so Ron couldn’t hear, “I know, don’t worry. It’s been doing it a bit. Hermione reckons it’s just faulty or unreliable — but don’t tell Ron that, he’ll just feel bad.”

Y/N eyed the Sneakoscope and looked up at Fred and George, who were sat nearby. They were talking to each other quietly and looking rather intently at what seemed to be a mess of blank parchment. “Maybe it isn’t actually faulty. They look sort of suspicious over there, don’t you think?”

Harry followed Y/N’s gaze to the twins. “They always look suspicious.”

Harry stuffed the Sneakoscope back into his pocket in an attempt to silence its squeals. Hermione approached the table and Y/N noticed a cat trailing behind her.

“Hi, Y/N,” she waved, sitting down. The cat, ginger and flat-faced, hopped up into Hermione’s arms.

“Hi, Hermione. Hello, Crookshanks,” Y/N smiled at the cat. He was a bit grumpy but in an adorable sort of way.

Crookshanks meowed.

A small squeaking noise caught Y/N’s attention and she saw Ron holding his rat, Scabbers, very protectively.

“I’m telling you, Hermione, that bloody cat is going to scare the life out of Scabbers!” Ron said.

Crookshanks was staring at Scabbers very intently.

Hermione just sighed and rolled her eyes, hugging Crookshanks closer. “He isn’t doing anything!”

Harry leaned his head on his palm, a dazed look glossing over his green eyes. Y/N had witnessed Hermione and Ron’s arguing over the issue of their pets several times already; but being in the same house, Harry must’ve had to put up with even more of it.

Fred and George stood from the table and started to leave.

“My money’s on Crookshanks,” said Fred as they passed by.

Ron scowled but stood to follow his brothers out. “I’m taking Scabbers back to the dorm.”

After the three Weasleys left, Y/N’s keen ears picked up on the lack of screeching from Harry’s hoodie.

“Hey, it stopped!” she said.

Harry, momentarily confused, then realised that the Sneakoscope had stopped whizzing. He took it back out of his pocket to see that it had gone silent.

“I guess it really was the twins after all.”


End file.
